


Flinch

by dysfunctionaldillusion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Betrayal, F/M, Family, Friendship, Love, M/M, Trust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-02-24 09:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 36,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13210623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dysfunctionaldillusion/pseuds/dysfunctionaldillusion
Summary: Tom kept his enemies close. Marcus wanted pride for his family. Adrian couldn’t feel anymore. Blaise hated his mother. Theodore was invisible. Daphne had one place and role according to her father. Pansy wanted to be beautiful. Draco saw no other choice. Hermione didn’t know the truth anymore.“When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching—they are your family”





	1. Everyday Superhero

**Author's Note:**

> Story can also be found on FanFiction.Net by dysfunctionsldilusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom gets a visitor and learns about his future while saving a life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter
> 
> Chapter lyric: “I’m just your average ordinary everyday superhero. Trying to save the world, but never really sure.”
> 
> Chapter warning: none

Tom Riddle hated surprises. As much as he loved Hogwarts and being a wizard, he hated the surprise of finding out he was one. He hated the one time in fourth year when Alabaster Avery, Edmund Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, Abraxas Malfoy, and Leopold Nott invited him home with them for the holidays and set up a surprise birthday party for him. He hated the surprise of having a muggle for a father and a mother who was weak from a powerful family.

Tom didn’t like the surprise he was now being given by Avery telling him a seer was there to meet him. Tom never had any faith in divination, yet he felt inclined to hear what the seer had to say. “Send her in, Avery.”

Cassandra Vablatsky waltzed through the door before Avery could go get her. Tom recognized her from seeing her picture on a book of hers recently released. “Let me guess, you saw in the fog that I would accept your presence,” Tom said haughtily.

Cassandra smirked and sat across from him. “No. You just spoke rather loudly that I heard from out in the hall. No bother to send Alabaster out to fetch like the good little dog he is,” She glanced over at Avery. “You’re excused, Alabaster.”

Avery glanced over to Tom, who nodded. Avery left. “So you are the great Tom Riddle.”

Tom sneered. “It is Lord Voldemort. I do not go by that insipid muggle name. I haven’t for years now.”

Cassandra chuckled. “You will always be Tom to Fate. Voldemort is who you _want to be, but Voldemort is not who you _are_ , or who you will become.”_

  
“What will I become? Who will I become?” Tom asked curiously.

  
Cassandra shrugged. “That is unclear.”

  
Tom snorted, “And you call yourself a seer.”

  
“I call myself a seer because I am one. Some futures are just unclear in the mist because of ambivalence.”

  
“Ambivalence?”

  
“Yes. Ambivalence is—”

  
“I know what ambivalent means, seer!” Tom shouted.

  
“I can tell you that a path you could’ve taken would have led to your demise,” Tom paled. “But that path is now growing faint as the one I see grows in the mist.” He perked up at the positive news. Perhaps this seer would be the key to his plans and victory.

  
“Tell me. What do you mean? How has my path already changed?”

  
“Your path changed just by me showing up here to see you and you accepting my presence instead of rejecting me. The path I see I cannot tell you if you will get what you want or meet your demise like the other one,” Cassandra explained.

  
“Then why are you here if you can’t tell me much?”

  
She shrugged. “The only reason your future, amongst others, is blurry is because of a group of ambivalent ones.”

  
“Tell me how I can make them side with me,” Tom demanded.

  
Cassandra shook her head. “I cannot. I can feel their essence in the beyond but they do not exist yet.”

  
Tom glared at the woman. “You are telling me my future hangs in the balance of people not yet born? My future hangs in the balance of children?”

  
“That is correct. I can see a baby though. A little girl to be specific. She will be very bright,” Cassandra’s eyes were closed. “She reminds me of you.”

  
“Me?”

  
“Yes. You were stuck in a world you did not belong to just like she will be. She will be alone until she proves herself to others, and even then she must keep on proving herself to others.”

  
“Why can you see that child but not the others?”

  
Cassandra shrugged. “I can’t answer everything for you. She has great amounts of ambivalence surrounding her in the future but I cannot tell if it is her own or others that she influences.”

  
“How will I know? This child must be important. How will I know where I can find her?” Tom realized that this little girl must hold some key, and if he understood Cassandra correctly, this girl was going to be a muggle-born or half-blood raised by the muggle parent. Perhaps the girl may be an orphan.

  
Cassandra smiled. “You will know. Each ambivalent child will raise a tremor to your future, but hers you will absolutely be sure of. I must bid you good-bye for now, Tom Riddle. I sense we shall meet again.”

  
Tom only stared at the seer as she walked out of the room. He still hated surprises.

 

* * *

   
Tom was staring at a map of Northern Ireland when Yaxley walked in. “My Lord.”

  
Tom turned to his follower. “What is it, Yaxley?”

  
“I was in Knockturn an hour ago looking for a book and a woman came up to me and said to give you this letter,” He handed the letter to Tom. “She only said that this would not be the last. I’m sorry to say that I did not recognize her.”

  
Tom snatched the letter and ripped it open. It had been ten years since Cassandra Vablatsky had visited him. Her visit was always in the back of his mind. He read:

  
_The first tremor has cried. I’m sure you already felt it._

  
Tom wasn’t sure what the tremor felt like but cried must relate to a baby being born. “Have any followers recently bore a child?”

  
Yaxley shook his head. Tom frowned. It shouldn’t have surprised him that it was not one of the followers’ child.

 

* * *

   
Tom received his next letter three years later. Alabaster delivered it to him. “I don’t understand why you are in contact with her, my Lord.”

  
Tom snatched the letter. “I’m not. I haven’t actually seen Vablatsky since we met that one time thirteen years ago. The first letter I ever got from her came three years ago. I wouldn’t call that frequent contact. I can’t even send her anything.”

  
He ripped the letter open.

  
_Two._

 

* * *

   
Tom couldn’t get out of bed two years later. His head felt as if it were splitting. “Klepper!” A small house-elf popped into his room. “Are any of my followers wandering around here?” Klepper nodded. “Tell one of them to bring Cassandra Vablatsky here. Immediately.”

  
Klepper nodded and left. Today felt different. Ideas swirled through Tom’s head of what could be going on.

  
Hours later, someone knocked on Tom’s door. “I found the woman, my Lord,” he heard Dolohov say from the other side.

  
“Send her in, Dolohov,” The door creaked open as Cassandra glided in. “My head is killing me. I feel pain everywhere.”

  
“I’m not a healer. You are in your fifties. Perhaps it is old age,” Cassandra answered.

  
Tom glanced over at the seer. “Aren’t you almost ninety?”

  
She nodded. “But I feel like I’m as old as you. Why have you summoned me? I don’t appreciate a burly man blowing my door to bits and ordering me to come with. I do expect you or that Dolohov to replace it.”

  
“I told you. I am in pain. Why? Today just feels different,” Tom explained. “I feel...I don’t know.”

  
Cassandra made herself comfortable in a chair next to Tom’s bed. “The girl was born today. Sweet little angel she is. Born to two muggles who have tried for years.”

  
Tom sighed. “What do I do? You have told me this child is important but what do I do with her? Kill her? Raise her? Teach her?”

  
“That is for you to decide. You will know when you find her,” Cassandra said. “I must go now. The Leaky Cauldron always has good pudding on Wednesdays. You will hear from me soon.”

  
Cassandra got up to leave. “Why do you never offer me advice?”

  
“I see the future. I can’t tell you what exact decisions get you there. Every choice you make, even the most simple of choices, like whether or not you take a shower today, changes the path you take. I can only feel the essence of the powerful choices that will lead you to the end game,” Cassandra walked towards the door. “I have a duty to the future and the eye. I cannot disobey. Good luck, Tom.”

  
The seer walked out, leaving Tom to himself. “Klepper!” The house-elf popped into the room where Cassandra had been moments ago. “Get me Alabaster and Leopold. They are the only two who might understand this.”

 

* * *

   
An owl delivered his next letter four days later. Avery was in his presence. “Where is Nott?” Tom demanded.

  
“Calla bore a son to him in the early hours today. I assume he is still basking in the glow of his new heir,” Avery answered.

  
Leopold Nott briskly walked into the office seconds later. “Theodore is asleep now just like Calla. I apologize for my tardiness, my Lord.”

  
Tom accepted his followers apology as he opened the letter he assumed to be from Cassandra.

  
_This one has an aura I can’t dismiss._

  
Tom looked to his follower. “Were there any other children born today?”

  
“None at St. Mungo’s, my Lord,” Nott replied. “Only my son.”

  
At least Tom knew one of the children who could pose a problem. Too bad it had to be the heir of House Nott. “How has the search for the muggle-born girl been going?”

 

* * *

   
Another letter arrived two months later. None of his followers had a child then. Three months after that letter, another one arrived in February. The letter corresponded with the birth of a Greengrass. The arrival of spring brought the birth of a Parkinson and a letter.

  
Tom’s last letter came in June.

  
_He is the last. He is important too._

  
Tom found Rabastan Lestrange first. “If you are looking for my sister-in-law, she as at the hospital visiting her newborn nephew.”

  
“The Malfoy scion has been born?”

  
“Yes, my Lord.”

  
Tom nodded and walked off. He had found out the first to kids were born to the neutral houses of Flint and Pucey. Nott was the next one. He discovered from Alabaster that the black widow Elara Selwyn had birthed the son of her most recent late husband, a wizard banker from Italy named Giovanni Zabini. Greengrass, Parkinson, and Malfoy rounded the list out.

  
All he needed was the muggle-born girl’s identity.

 

* * *

   
On his birthday Tom found himself standing on the edge of muggle town called Mullion. The news reached his ears Scabior, the Lestranges, Yaxley, and Rowle decided to raid the muggle town.

  
Alabaster and Leopold stood next to him. “Are you both certain?”

  
Leopold nodded. “I pulled some strings but she was the only girl born in September—she and Theodore were the only children born in September to be precise.”

  
“Then good thing you found me tonight,” Tom said.

  
“I turned in a favor to get a hold of her address,” Alabaster added.

  
Screams and sirens echoed from the town. “We must hurry. Let’s apparate to the house.”

  
Tom thought of the address in his mind and felt himself appear in front of the muggle residence he had been looking for for over a year. He heard two more pops. “Everything looks to be okay,” Leopold commented. A scream came from inside the house. “Perhaps I spoke too soon.”

  
The three wizards ran into the house. A man lay on the floor in a pool of his own blood dead. He must’ve been the father. Tom recognized the damage to be from multiple hits of the cruciatus curse. Another scream and a cackle came from upstairs. “It just had to be Bellatrix,” Tom grumbled. He glanced at his two companions. “Which one of you two are going to knock her out? I say you do Alabaster.”

  
“Why me?” scoffed Avery. “I don’t want to deal with the bitch.”

  
“Because of fourth year.”

  
“Are you talking about that surprise party we threw for you at my manor?” Tom nodded. “You can hold such a grudge.”

  
“That comment could get you a cruciatus after this,” Tom scolded.

  
Alabaster started to climb. “You, Leo, and I all know that we are your favorites. You would only imperio us and make us slap ourselves silly. A meaningful crucio could kill us. Besides, we found the girl.”

  
Alabaster disappeared around the bannister. “He has such an attitude,” Leopold remarked. “It is very obvious where Archibald got it from. Little bastard was sassing me during a raid the other day just because he was leading it. A good stupefy taught him to respect his elders.”

  
Tom glanced at the body on the floor. A flash in his mind and the memory of his father’s body looked just like this. Tom didn’t have satisfaction this time. “What are you going to do with the girl, my Lord? Even if the mother is still alive when we get upstairs, whatever Bellatrix did to her has signed her death certificate. She’s an orphan.”

  
Tom admitted to himself that he still had no idea what he was going to do with the girl. A thud came from upstairs followed by Alabaster yelling down, “She’s out cold!”

  
Tom and Leopold joined their comrade in a bedroom at the far end of the hall. Tom looked around the room. The walls were a soft green and lined with books. A white crib was under the window. The mother was in front of it on the ground.

  
“She was barely alive when I got up here,” Avery said. “She kept muttering her. I assume she is talking about her baby. Poor thing is gone now.”

  
“Where is the girl?” Tom asked. Avery pointed to the crib. Tom glanced inside, figuring he would see a dead baby. He was greeted with a surprise. “That baby slept through all of this?”

  
Avery nodded. “Little Archie slept all the time when he was a baby.”

  
“As does Theo,” Leopold added. “He’s out by 8 and wakes up at 7 the following morning. Maybe this little girl knows her schedule quite well.”

  
Tom walked closer to the crib and stared down at the little girl asleep not knowing the death surrounding her. She had a wild set of curls. “Are you going to kill her too, my Lord?” he heard Alabaster ask.

  
Tom did not respond. The small girl moved and opened her eyes. Young brown eyes met old red ones that seemed to mix with its original brown for just a second. He knew he should kill the girl. It would make everything easier. The small girl kept staring at him, never crying once. “What background did you get on her family, Alabaster?”

  
“Her father has an older brother. He and his wife have no children and live a couple blocks away. I bet if we can get the others out of here, they’ll come check here, if they are still alive that is.”

  
Tom walked over to Bellatrix. “ _Obliviate_ ,” he murmured. “Make sure she gets back to her home along with her husband, brother-in-law, and the others. Obliviate all of their minds of tonight. Then take care of the rest of the muggles in this town. Find an awful one and make it look like he went on a serial spree.”

  
“What of the girl?” Leopold asked once more.

  
“Go check if her uncle and aunt are alive. Report back to me their status,” Avery nodded and apparated away. “If Alabaster reports they are alive, then I will make sure they gain guardianship over her.”

  
“You aren’t afraid she is going to lead to your death? Just like in that prophecy Snape brought to your attention.”

  
“I trust Vablatsky more than Trelawney.”

  
“And yet you are hunting down the Potters to kill their son,” Leopold paused. “What if they are dead?”

  
“She was born close to your son. Perhaps you could try to pass her off has your daughter and his twin sister.”

  
Alabaster apparated back into the room. “They live and are on their way here. I ran into Scabior and the Lestrange boys. They’ve been obliviated and sent home. Didn’t see Rowle or Yaxley. I did find a muggle thief. He is now your serial spree killer.”

  
“Go obliviate the rest of the muggles and find Rowle and Yaxley. I want this faux story implemented in everyone’s minds,” Tom ordered.

  
“The uncle and aunt will be here any moment,” Alabaster stated.

  
“I’ll deal with them,” Tom said, “Just go do your job and I’ll do mine.”

 

* * *

   
Tom readied himself to go to the Potter’s residence, which he now knew the location of thanks to wormtail. “Are you sure about this?” Tom turned around to see Cassandra Vablatsky standing in the doorway.

  
“What do you want?” Tom asked. “It has been a while.”

  
“It has been,” Cassandra agreed. “I saw in the fog you were going to go try and kill the Potter boy. I thought you didn’t believe anything from a Trelawney?”

  
“I want power. This boy could stop that.”

  
“So could the Longbottom one, and so could the sweet, little muggle-born girl you spared. How is she? I know you keep tabs on her.”

  
Tom scowled and did not answer. “Why I are you here?”

  
She shrugged. “I wondered if you knew what you were doing. Can’t an old seer be curious?”

  
“Every time we meet I am less convinced that you are an actual seer,” Tom commented. “Do you know what will happen if I go after the Potter boy.”

  
“Death.”

  
“Good.”

  
“I never said whose death.”

  
“I can’t die. Therefore it doesn’t matter who dies.” Tom began walking to his door.

  
“It was love,” Cassandra said suddenly. Tom stopped. “You’ve been wondering for months now how she lived through it all. Her mother loved her.”

  
“So since her mother loved her she lived?” Cassandra nodded. “My mother died.”

  
“And you are here. Never underestimate a mother’s love for her child, Tom,” Cassandra said. “You should go now, Tom. Perhaps say hello to the little messenger queen for me when you see her later.”


	2. First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus goes to Diagon Alley and finds out who he counts as family. Adrian argues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
> 
> Chapter Warning: none
> 
> Chapter lyric: "Cheated and lied, broken so bad. You made a vow, never get mad. You play the game, though it's unfair. They're all the same, who can compare? First you lose trust, then you get worried."

Marcus Flint stared at the new Cleansweep Seven in the display of the quidditch store. "We must keep on moving, Marcus. Julius and Brutus need the rest of their Hogwarts supplies," he heard his mother call.

Marcus sighed and moved on from the quidditch display. His older brothers always meant more than he did. Julius and Brutus were getting measured for new robes when Marcus entered Madam Malkin's. Julius was a sixth year Slytherin while Brutus was a third year Slytherin. Marcus would start Hogwarts the following year.

"Does little Marcus want a big boy broom?" Brutus cooed.

"Shut up. You aren't that much older than me," Marcus growled.

Portia Flint slapped her youngest son upside the head. "Quiet, Marcus. Have respect for your brothers."

"Someday you'll ride a boom. Perhaps when you grow a foot and your face straightens out," Julius jeered.

Marcus went to make a retort but could feel his mother's hardened gaze fall on him. It wasn't his fault that he was still short and his teeth were screwed up. He blamed Julius and Brutus for his teeth. They were the ones who sent a bludger into his face when he was four years old. Besides, Julius and Brutus weren't very tall either.

Suddenly, Julius screeched. "My bad, Mr. Flint. You must've moved as I was trying to pin this. Do stay still," Madame Malkin said. Marcus quietly chuckled as the older witch glanced over at him and smiled. She had done it on purpose.

Marcus saw his mother glower at the witch. "Marcus, go to Flourish and Blotts and get your brothers' books," She handed him a list and a sack of sickles, knuts, and galleons. "If you have some left, then buy yourself a book. I do expect some left over."

Marcus nodded and quickly snatched the sack. He would do anything to get out of there. He knew his mother never loved him like she did Julius, the heir of the Flint house, and Brutus, the boy who could do and be anything. Marcus may be the baby but he was unplanned and the ruin of her body.

He entered the bookshop and headed straight for the textbook section. This wasn't the first year his mother made him pick up his brother's textbooks. "That time of the year, Marcus?" Marcus looked up and saw Seshat Flourish standing there. "Need some help?"

Marcus nodded and handed Seshat the list. She flicked her wand and began summoning various books. Marcus caught whatever books did not fly over to the counter. Once done, Seshat noticed none of the books had hit the ground. "How has quidditch practice gone? With catching skills like that I bet you'll be a chaser or keeper, in more ways than one."

Marcus laughed at the older woman's joke. "It's going alright. Dad seems proud of me. Julius and Brutus aren't good at quidditch. That's probably why he likes me."

Seshat shook her head. "Apollo says he is very invested in your well being. He cares for you, Marcus."

"Your son may be a good little league quidditch coach but he's full of it. I mean nothing to the Flint name," Marcus said matter-of-factly. "Is there anything left over?"

Seshat counted the total against the sack of coins Marcus had put on the counter. "10 sickles and 5 knuts are left. A new shipment of quidditch books came in this morning. I had Apollo put them out before he left this morning."

Marcus nodded and headed towards the section he was very familiar with. His eyes immediately landed on book with the detailed histories of quidditch teams of Europe. It was 10 sickles and 4 knuts. Hopefully a knut was enough change to please his mother. He knew it wouldn't be.

Seshat smiled at his choice of literature. "I knew you would pick that book. Apollo wondered if I would see you sometime because he left something for me to give you this morning. Let me get it," Seshat went to back room and came back moments later with a rough copy of  _Quidditch Through the Ages_.

"It was nice of Apollo to think of me, but I already own a copy of this," Marcus said.

"I figured you did, as did Apollo. He told told me to tell you it is a special copy signed by Kennilworthy Whisp and has all of Apollo's handwritten notes and game plans in it," Marcus's face lit up. "He apologizes for it being so rough but it is, of course, his favorite book. He didn't want to give it to you after the last game Saturday because he has nothing for the other players. He figured you would enjoy it more than he can now where he is going."

Marcus frowned. "Where's Apollo going?"

"He went to go sign a contract with the Braga Broomfleet in Portugal today. He starts training Monday," Seshat said proudly.

"That's awesome!" Marcus said excitedly. He couldn't be more proud of his mentor.

"Marcus!" he heard his mother screech.

"I'll have Eleos deliver the books to your home. Eleos!" The residential house-elf of Flourish and Blotts appeared. "Please take these books to the Flint residence." Eleos nodded and disappeared with the stack of books, except for Marcus's two quidditch books. Seshat shrunk the two books down. "They'll go back to normal size when you open them. Make sure not to fool around with them in your pocket. It would be bad if you suddenly had two full size books in your pockets."

Marcus shoved the books in his pocket and grabbed the sack of coins. He noticed she had taken none out. "What about the book I bought?"

"It will be okay. You'll be safer this way," Seshat said. "Just be a good boy, Marcus. You can do great things if you stick to being Marcus Flint, the real you."

Marcus smiled. "Thank you, Seshat."

He turned and left the store. He ran directly into his mother. "Why didn't you come the first time I called your name, Marcus?"

"I'm sorry, mother. I was finishing the transaction and having the books sent home," Marcus handed his mother the change. "10 sickles and 5 knuts are left."

His mother nodded. "Let's get to the floo. Cicero should have dinner ready and your father should be home."

* * *

 

Cassius Flint was home and Cicero did have dinner ready when the quartet arrived. "How has your day been dear family?" Cassius asked when the whole family was seated at the table for dinner.

"Wonderful, darling," Portia declared. Marcus snorted but quickly quieted down in order to not feel his mother's wrath. "Julius and Brutus are all set for Hogwarts in two weeks."

"Madam Malkin poked me at our robe fitting!" Julius tattled.

Brutus snorted. "At least you didn't have some pesky toddler trip and have his toad land in your hair. It was absolutely ghastly, father."

"I'm sure. How about you, Marcus?" his father asked. "How was your day?"

"Marcus spent his time at Flourish and Blotts and also staring at the new Sweepclean four," Portia said for her youngest son.

"Cleansweep Seven," both father and son corrected.

She ignored them both. "I talked to my brother this morning, darling."

Marcus noticed his father roll his eyes. "Let me guess, Thorfinn tried to get you to believe you-know-who is going to come back and we should join his side? Or that he once again needs protection? Honestly Portia, can't he take care of himself? He's lucky that he escaped Azkaban years ago."

"I think I shall retire for the night," she said in a huff as a reply. Snide comments about her brother were not tolerated, even from her husband. She only acknowledged Julius and Brutus upon leaving. The two older boys soon followed, always choosing to follow their mother instead of their father.

Marcus was now alone with his father. "How was today really?"

Marcus shrugged. "I admired the new Cleansweep in the display case before going to Flourish and Blotts to get Julius and Brutus's textbooks. Eleos should've delivered them."

"He did."

"Did you get home early?"

Cassius nodded. "Finished up work early. I had Casca take the books to your brother's rooms. I noticed nothing was for you."

Marcus reached into his pocket and opened to two books on the table. "I got this book about the history of the European quidditch teams. Seshat let me have it for free. I'm going to send her the money tomorrow to pay for it. Did you know that Apollo signed with the Braga Broomfleet today? This is his copy of QTtA. He left it for me. It has all of his notes and game plans and is signed by Kennilworthy Whisp."

"Why did Seshat let you take the book without paying?"

"Portia wanted change, and if I paid for the book, the only change would be a single knut. She thought it would be safer this way," Marcus admitted.

"She's your mother, Marcus."

"She doesn't act like it," Marcus protested. "She doesn't love me. She is no mother to me. I am nothing to this family."

Cassius Flint shook his head. "You are my son. It will be you, Marcus, who will keep the Flint name proud. Julius and Brutus are all Rowle. The only Flint thing about them is their last name. You are a true Flint." Marcus smiled and did the rare thing of hugging his father. "Keep faith in yourself, Marcus. Don't let Julius, Brutus, and your mother ruin who you are."

* * *

 

Adrian Pucey couldn't harm a fly. Both of his parents and anyone else who knew the Pucey family were aware of it. "You need to toughen the boy up, Eli. He's weak. Puceys are not weak," Adrian's grandfather said for millionth time at dinner one night. Adrian heard this come from his grandfather at least once a day. "He's going to be a Hufflepuff the way he's going."

"Corin's sister was Hufflepuff. There is nothing wrong with the house," his father would reply like always.

"Bah! Back in my day, there wasn't any of this showing emotion to anyone, family even—"

"—Oh I know, father—" Adrian would hear his father mutter.

"—And people turned out just fine. Emotion is weakness, Hadrian. Quit being so damn nice and perhaps you'll actually succeed in this world and not be the disgrace you are on the track of being."

"It's Adrian. I'm not named Hadrian, and I don't like to be called that," Adrian snapped. He pushed his chair out. "I'm going to Terence's house."

Adrian stomped off. "Are you going to let your kid sass you and disrespect me, Eli?" He heard his grandfather say. "And you are going to let him go hang out with that poof next door?"

"Enough father!" Eli Pucey barked. "One more snide and uncalled for remark and I'm going to have you committed."

"That might be better than here."

* * *

 

Adrian knocked on the door of the Higgs residence. Evelin Higgs opened the door. "Hello Adrian. Come in dear. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Higgs. Grandfather is giving me a hard time again. Father threatened to have him committed again," Adrian chuckled.

"Have you had dinner?" Adrian nodded. "Okay. Terence is up in his room."

Adrian thanked Mrs. Higgs and ran up the stairs towards Terence's room. The Higgs weren't rich. They had a small two story house next the Pucey's nicer looking one. Terence was the only child of Evelin and Edwin Higgs just as Adrian was the only child to Eli and Corin Pucey. Terence was a few years older than Adrian and about to start his first year at Hogwarts.

Terence was working on a set of arithmancy problems when Adrian walked into his room. "You're such a nerd. You do know arithmancy is not a first year subject?"

Terence smirked at his friend. "I know. I happen to enjoy these types of problems."

"I bet you'll be in Ravenclaw."

Terence shrugged. "Your grandfather giving you a hard time again?" Adrian nodded and sat next to him. "I know I shouldn't use this word but your grandfather is a bastard. I hate how he treats you."

"It doesn't matter. I'll be off to Hogwarts in a few years and I won't have to put up with him as much."

Terence slammed his arithmancy book shut. "I don't understand how you can be so nonchalant about this. Stick up for yourself, Adrian. You can't let people walk over you for the rest of your life. You'll just end up a puppet."

Adrian felt his eyes water. "You're supposed to be my friend, Terence," Adrian said, his voice trembling with each word. "You're supposed to be on my side, not his."

"I am on your side!" Terence shouted. "I just want you to be strong enough not to get broken."

Adrian shook his head and ran out of the room. He passed Mrs. Higgs in the hall as he ran out the door heading back home.

His cheeks were wet and warm. Adrian was strong. He wasn't weak and fragile. Adrian was going to prove he wouldn't become a puppet just because he was nicer than others. He sighed. He realized he always had to prove himself to people.

Adrian wiped his tears away and inhaled deeply. A stoic look settled on his face. Adrian Pucey wasn't weak, or maybe he was.


	3. Survivor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne goes to a party and meets people with her father glaring from a distance. Pansy tries to look pretty for a wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter  
> Chapter warning: Implied abuse  
> Chapter lyric: "I'm a survivor (what?) I'm not gon' give up (what?) I'm not gon' stop (what?) I'm gon' work harder (what?)"

Daphne Greengrass was taught girls are to be pretty and quiet; she was taught girls obey the men; she was taught girls are never meant to be heard and rarely be seen except for social and charity events and the occasional shopping trip; she was taught girls give their husband an heir, groom the heir, and stand by their husband’s side. She was never allowed to share her opinion. She watched daily as her father hit her mother.

 

She wanted to rebel so badly, but every time the thought came to her head she saw Astoria playing with her dolls or chasing butterflies in the garden. Daphne couldn’t leave Astoria to deal with this horror. She knew this couldn’t be right, and she discovered she was right when her father finally allowed her to attend the Malfoy’s Christmas ball. Mitzy, their nanny elf, was to stay with Astoria for the night.  


Before taking the floo to Malfoy Manor, her father stopped her. “Now Daphne, how will you act?”

 

“I will only speak when addressed, and then only give simple answers. If someone asks me to dance or sit with them, then I must ask your permission first. I will not make any weird noises. I will get either you or mother to escort me out  of the ballroom if need be after I have gained your permission. I will not interrupt any of your conversations. I will set the proper example of a proper Greengrass girl.”  


Lyle Greengrass smiled and nodded. “Very good, darling. I shall floo first followed by you and then your mother. Do not mess up, Daphne.”  


“Yes sir.”  


“A simple nod would have sufficed,” Her father grabbed a handful of floo powder and shouted, “Malfoy Manor!”  


Lyle dissolved in the green flames. “Mother,” Daphne said quietly, “Do you ever think father is wrong?”  


“Don’t let him hear you say such a foolish notion, Daphne. Just follow your father’s rule and not the guide of others. It is with your father you will return home with tonight, not the other  families,” Her mother pushed her towards to the floo. “Go now. Try not to muck up your dress and hair. Soot can leave damage on your precious blonde hair.”  


Daphne grabbed the powder and called out her destination. “What took you so long?” Her father growled as he yanked her out of the floo.  


“Mother was straightening my hair and dress one last time,” Daphne lied. “She wanted me to look perfect since this is my first societal event.”  


He believed her pathetic excuse. Diana came out of the floo a second later. Lyle took his wife on his arm. He put Daphne in front of them with his remaining hand on her back guiding her in the right direction. They stopped in front of a group of adults.  


A man with long, almost white hair smiled at them and shook her father’s hand. “Wonderful to see you, Lyle. Diana, you look lovely tonight,” The man took notice of Daphne. “Who is this?”  


“Our eldest daughter, Daphne,” Lyle answered. “Say hello, Daphne.”  


“Hello,” Daphne said quietly.  


A woman with hair matching hers smiled at Daphne. “It is lovely to meet you, Daphne. I am Narcissa Malfoy, and this is my husband Lucius. Our son Draco is your age. He is over there sitting with other children you age. Why don’t I take you over there to sit and eat with them.”  


Daphne glanced up to her father. “Daphne will stay with us to eat, Narcissa,” he answered.

 

“Nonsense. She will be going to Hogwarts with those children. Come now, Daphne, before all the food is gone,” Narcissa guided Daphne away from the group of adults.

 

“How did you do that?” Daphne asked, shocked that Narcissa spoke that way. “Won’t your husband be upset with you for talking like that?”  


Narcissa looked at Daphne oddly. “Of course not, dear. I am entitled to my own opinions.”  


“Father would get very upset if I talked like that.”

 

“I’m sure Lyle would. Take this tip from me, Daphne, because your mother will certainly be no hope in helping you survive in this world: use the concepts your father expects as a ruse to keep everyone off your back and keep you underestimated. Women can accomplish very much because we are underestimated,” They stopped at a table. Narcissa glared at the blond boy slopping on his food. “Where are your manners, Draco? I hadn’t realized this was a barn.”

 

The boy, Draco, swallowed his food. “I’m sorry, mother.”  


“This is Daphne Greengrass,” Narcissa introduced, “The sloppy one is my son Draco. From his left on is Theodore Nott, Hestia Carrow, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, Millicent Bulstrode, Gregory Goyle, Flora Carrow, Marcus Flint, and Gwyneth Rosier. Gwyneth will attend Beauxbatons in two years. Hestia and Flora are twins. Marcus is several years older than you. He and Pansy have older brothers running around here somewhere. Besides Gwyneth, the rest will be in Hogwarts with you; besides Marcus and the twins, the others will be in your year. Hestia and Flora will be in the year below. Why don’t you sit between Theodore and Draco.”  


The boy called Theodore quickly stood up and pulled back the empty seat between him and Draco. Daphne sat down and Theodore pushed her in.  


“At least someone is a gentleman,” Narcissa said, staring her son down.

 

“Theo seemed to have a decent grasp on the situation mother,” Draco replied and took another bite.

 

Narcissa nodded and walked away. “Do you have any siblings?” the girl Pansy asked. “I have an idiot older brother, Basil. Mother says he is an absolute genius, but I know how stupid he actually is.”  


Daphne replied yes, and Pansy looked at her if she was stupid. “Yes what?”  


“I have a sibling.”  


“Brother or sister? Older or younger? I want detail.”  


“I have a little sister named Astoria. She is two years younger,” Daphne took a small bite of her salad.  


Pansy wasn’t interested in her after that, none of the other children seemed to be—except Theodore. He kept glancing over at her, watching every little move she made. Several times they made eye contact but Daphne looked away first.  


After they finished their dessert, she felt someone grab her hand. Daphne tensed thinking it was her father. Glancing over, she saw Theodore holding it. “Come dance with me.”  


“I have to ask my father first,” Daphne said quietly.  


Theodore didn’t let go of her hand; instead, he pulled her towards the dance floor. “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage. It’s just one dance.”  


“Father doesn’t like it when I don’t ask his permission before I do something.”  


“Clearly you’ve never lived and had the fun of toeing the line and accomplishing the unexpected.” Theodore put his other hand on her waist and began dancing. Daphne clamped her hand on his shoulder. “Does your father tell you you have to be quiet too? You don’t talk much. Pansy talks a lot, Narcissa is always taking charge when no one is looking, and my mum always tells my dad what she is thinking.”  


Daphne stayed quiet.  


“My mum also tells me to find a girl who values herself because then she’ll value all the love you give her,” Theodore continued. “I don’t think you value yourself.”

 

“Would it please you if I did?”

 

“Only if you wanted to and truly did. It’s not worth doing it if you can’t do it to get some sort of reward out of it. My dad is a lot older than my mum. He told me that he didn’t ever plan on marrying until he met her and fell in love. She gave him a new view of life. That’s what he tells me.”  


Daphne was still quiet, absorbing all the words Theodore said. “I think that you think like my mum but you don’t say anything in fear of disappointing your father and mother and ruining whatever image they told you you must act. I see you, Daphne—”  


“Daphne!” she heard her father call.  


“—And you seem too smart and beautiful to act like a girl you are nothing like. Stay strong, Greengrass.” Theodore let go of her and walked away.  


As Daphne watched him retreat through the crowd, she felt her father’s familiar grip pull her away from the edge of the ballroom floor. “We are leaving,” he snapped softly. Her mother followed them when they walked past. She seemed to be mid-conversation with Narcissa and a woman who resembled Pansy, probably her mother, but dropped it to follow her husband and daughter.  


* * *

 

“What were you doing dancing?” her father growled. “I don’t remember you asking my permission to dance.”

 

Daphne stared at her feet. “I’m sorry, father. I was having a nice time with the other kids and joined them when they all started dancing.”

 

“The other children had partners. Who did you dance with?”  


“Theodore Nott.”  


Her cheek stung after he removed his hand from it. “Don’t hang around Nott again. His mother is a nuisance. I don’t understand why Leopold cannot control her. Narcissa isn’t much better. Then again she is a Black,” Lyle glanced at his daughter. “Diana, clean Daphne up and put her to bed.”

 

Lyle walked towards his study as Diana ushered her daughter to her room. Daphne noticed the fear in her mother’s eyes. From what she learned tonight from Theodore, Narcissa, and just observing, this wasn’t common. Daphne didn’t know what she was going to do about it, but she had to do something, if not for herself then for Astoria. She wouldn’t let her little sister grow with this mindset.  


* * *

 

Pansy Parkinson stared into the mirror. She combed her fingers through her hair one more time. Her mother always told her first impressions were made from looks. She smoothed out the crease in her dress again. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

 

“I don’t understand why you are trying so hard,” Pansy’s eyes flew open. She saw in the mirror her brother, Basil, leaning in the doorway. “No matter how many times you try to perfect yourself, you are still going to look like a pug.”  


“Mother always says looks are the first impression,” Pansy answered. “Clearly you’ve never listened to her since your face is still covered in pimples.”

 

“It’s called being a teenager. You’ll understand when you look like this in a few years,” Basil sneered.

 

Pansy rolled her eyes and straightened her necklace. “Perhaps my face will also be covered in pimples, but at least I’ll make them look beautiful or cover them with makeup.”

 

“Makeup can cover any blemish,” Basil agreed, “Makes sense on why you cake your face with it.”

 

Pansy grabbed a bottle of perfume and threw it at her brother. He was already gone as the glass bottle shattered against the wall. Pansy collapsed into a heap of tears onto the floor. She tried her best to look beautiful like her mother told her she needed to be. Clearly she wasn’t trying hard enough.

 

* * *

 

Posy Parkinson fussed over Pansy’s hair. “I’m spelling your hair,” her mother grumbled, “I cannot stand your hair being so short. We’ll keep it past your shoulders.”  


“But I think it looks pretty short,” Pansy protested.

 

Her mother scoffed. “What do you know about beauty, Pansy? Absolutely nothing, I can tell you that,” Her mother paused. “You are prettier than your cousin, and if her parents found her a husband, then surely we can find you one.”

 

That sounded like her mother. Her grandmother always said the same thing about her mother. Pansy made the promise to herself that she wouldn’t be like this to here children. Pansy couldn’t imagine herself being this cruel to anyone, except those who deserved it.

 

“Basil! Byron! We have to leave now!” Pansy’s mother screamed.

 

Her ears rang. Pansy moved her hands closer to her ears to stop the ringing. Her mother swatted her hand away.

 

“Quit testing me, child. Behave during this and perhaps you can stay the night at Millicent’s next weekend. Roberta told me yesterday during tea that her daughter greatly enjoyed your company last week at that charity event for St. Mungo’s.”

 

“But Millicent is obsessed with crups!” Pansy shrieked. “She believes kneazles are evil. I can't hang out with her when she believes that. What if she tried to kill Hyacinth?”  


At the mention of her name, the kneazle rubbed up against her owner. As Pansy bent down to pet her beloved kneazle, Basil kicked the creature away.

 

“C’mon little sister, mother said it is time to go,” Basil smirked.  


Posy grabbed the portkey that would send them to the venue of the wedding. “Make a good impression, Pansy. You don't know what families will be there,” her mother instructed.  


Pansy nodded as the portkey took off. She fixed her hair one last time after they landed. She would be perfection.


	4. 7 Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaise gets another father. Theo bonds with his father under unfortunate circumstances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter  
> Chapter Warning: none  
> Chapter Lyric: "It was a big big world, but we thought we were bigger. Pushing each other to the limits, we were learning quicker."

Blaise Zabini stared at his reflection and straightened his robes. Today was wedding number four. His father was number two. He barely remembered husband number three. Blaise only remembered that he died soon after the wedding and did not leave Elara very much.  


He smiled at his reflection. His front tooth was missing. Even with a missing tooth, Blaise looked pretty good and would be the best looking at the wedding. Granted he was the only person who thought that.   


“Close your mouth, figlio,” Elara said from the vanity she was doing her makeup at right next to the mirror he was standing in front of. “No one wants to see your gap.”  


“It isn’t my fault the silly tooth came out the night before our big day,” Elara glared at her son. Blaise quickly corrected himself. “Your day. This day is all about you for you. I just get the rings down to the altar and be invisible for the rest of the night.”  


Elara snorted. “You be invisible? Impossible, figlio. You are my son. We do not stay invisible. We attract the spotlight because we have the looks and the blood. The one thing I did right in marrying Giovanni Zabini is having you with the oldest and purest Italian wizard line. Your status is perfection.Unfortunately the two of us must learn to share the spotlight for the time being.”

 

“It can be done,” Blaise responded.

 

Elara rolled her eyes. “You are too optimistic, Blaise. Even with my own own flesh and blood I do not share well,” Elara put down the eyeshadow palette. “Go make sure everybody is ready. I'm tired of being alone.”  


Blaise really wanted to tell his mother she was not alone, that he was there for her. He was quiet as he walked out the door. His mother was too self-obsessed to believe him, or even hear him leave.  


* * *

 

Blaise sat on his bedroom window bench staring down at the reception in the garden below. His mother was dancing and drinking with her new husband. Blaise gave it a year before they'd be planning a funeral. 

 

He had been sent to bed after he had dinner and one dance. It was adult time now.

 

Blaise didn't mind that he had been sent away. The parties and society affairs got boring and old after awhile. He wasn't old enough to enjoy the events yet.

 

There were no children at the wedding either. It didn’t bother Blaise because wasn't the biggest fan of the other children he had met; they were odd and too dramatic.   


He heard the familiar pop of a house-elf appearing in his room. “Little master should be in bed.”

 

“I don't want to go to bed, Talbert,” Blaise huffed. “You’re just a silly, old house-elf. I don't have to listen to you.”  


“Little master should go to bed before mistress and new mister come to check on little master,” the house-elf said. “Talbert does not want to see little master in trouble.”

 

“No!” Blaise screamed. “I'm the wizard here. I don't listen to you; you listen to me.”  


“Blaise!” Blaise’s head snapped up at the sound of his mother’s voice. She was standing in the doorway with steam blowing out her ears and her face tinted in fury. She must've had shots of firewhiskey before coming to see him.

 

“Talbert tried to get little master to go to bed, mistress. Talbert is failure,” The wailing house-elf started to bang his head against the bedpost.   


“Leave us,” Elara commanded. Talbert immediately stopped and disappeared. Blaise gulped as he stared his mother down. “You dare disobey orders?”

 

“Talbert is just a house-elf,” Blaise repeated.

 

“On my orders! By not listening to him, you are not listening to me,” Elara sneered. She inhaled to try and calm herself down. “Do not step out of line again, Blaise. Otherwise you may be staying with your father.”

 

Blaise looked at his mother confused. “But father is dead,” His mother said nothing as she stared him down before leaving his bedroom in cold silence. “Oh.”

 

Blaise walked over to his bed and tucked himself in. “I'm better than her,” Blaise mumbled as he snuggled into his pillow. “I'll prove to her I'm the better one.”  


* * *

 

Theodore Nott almost had his hand on the doorknob before pulling back. It had been three weeks—three weeks since his father locked himself in his study; three weeks since Theo turned invisible to the greying world; three weeks since his mother died.

 

Theo trudged back down the hall towards the library. He grabbed a book off one of the shelves and settled down on the window seat that overlooked the garden.

 

His mother planted that garden. She believed Nott Manor needed some brightening up once she moved in and married the older Leopold Nott, who met his beloved wife, Calla, when he was in Greece on a trip for “an old friend of his”. Theo knew he meant the Dark Lord but went along with what his parents said. Calla was the youngest daughter of a Greek healer and potion master. She bewitched him with her looks and kindness. Calla’s father wouldn't give his youngest daughter’s hand in marriage to the foreign wizard, but the two had already fallen in love. They ran away and never looked back.

 

He glanced back at the book in his hand. It was an album full of photos. Theo flipped through the pages and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

 

“I miss you, mamá,” Theo whispered. “Patéras is not around, and I am just invisible.”

 

“You are not invisible, Theodore,” His head snapped up and saw his father leaning against a bookcase. Theo hadn't even heard the door creak open. Leopold walked over and sat next to his son. He glanced from the garden to the album and then back to the garden.

 

“Calla would not be happy with how we've acted the past three weeks. I am sorry you feel invisible, my son,” His father gently wrapped his arm around Theo’s shoulders. “You remind me of your mother in more ways than not.”

 

Theo shook his head. “I'm nothing like mamá, patéras. Mamá was better.”

 

“You are not wrong there,” Leopold chuckled. “She was better than everyone, including us.”

 

“Patéras, tell me about mamá when she was younger,” Theo pleaded. “I want to know why you say I am like her.”  


Leopold nodded. “Calla had five older sisters and six older brothers. She was beloved by being the youngest but often ignored for the same reason.  She knew everyone's weaknesses and strengths because she saw everything when nobody saw her.”  


“But you saw her; you saw mamá.”

 

“I did. Women never intrigued me because most of them were after the title and money. Being the only heir to our family, I would've eventually have to get an heir and I had planned on doing magical adoption when the time came.”

 

“But you met mamá.”

 

He nodded. “But I met mamá. Calla knew how to play her cards. She could play the weak girl one second, a healer the next, and the scariest person ever right after that. She was underestimated by many. Seeing everything and being invisible became her weakness though.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because others took notice and she became valuable. It is what made running away so easy for

her.”  


“Master,” Finley, one of the Nott house-elves, said when she appeared. “Lunch is ready. Shall it be brought to master’s study?”

 

Theo felt the fear swell up inside him. He had just got his father back and was not ready to give him up again.

 

Leopold shook his head. “Theo and I shall eat in the kitchen, Finley. We will be down in a moment.” Theo felt his heart do flips; not only had his father not taken his lunch in his study, but he called Theo Theo and said they would eat in the kitchen, the usual spot where Theo and his mother would eat lunch. “Let's eat lunch before we head to the Arrows vs Wasps game with the others.”

 

“You remembered!” Theo grinned.

 

“Of course I did. We’ve been looking forward to this for months.” Leopold stood up and began to cough. He leaned against the wall.

 

“Are you okay, patéras?” Theo asked concerned.

 

His father waved his concern away. “I'm not a young man, Theo, not like your friends’ fathers. Coughing fits happen.”

 

“Maybe we shouldn't go to the match,” Theo said.

 

“Nonsense, my son. You have been looking forward to this match for months. Come now, let's eat,” Leopold replied as he ushered his son to the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

The father-son duo never made it to the match. Theo had Finley take them to St. Mungo’s when his father’s coughing started to worsen.

 

“It's a good thing you had him brought in, kid,” the healer told Theo. “He has Black Cat Flu, and a rather nasty strain looking at the prognosis. You got him in just in time. You'll have to stay here for about three months, Mr. Nott. This is mainly because of the strain and your age. Who can we owl for your son to stay with?”

 

“Archibald Avery,” Leopold answered.

 

“No!” shouted Theo, “You can't have me stay with him, patéras. Avery is mean.”

 

“There's no one else for you to stay with.”

 

“What about my friends?” Theo argued.

 

“You're staying with Archie, Theodore. That is final,” Leopold snapped. Theo stepped back and nodded solemnly. “Finley will go back some of your things and bring them here. She will always be at your beck and call.”

 

Theo didn't reply. He sat in the chair next to the bed in silence.

 

Archibald Avery showed up an hour later to collect Theo. He put on the smile and good graces that fooled the older Nott but not the younger one. With tight grip on his arm, Avery pulled Theo towards the floo and pushed him through.

 

Five other men were in the room when Theo came through with Avery following. Avery grabbed the collar of Theo’s shirt. “Listen well kid, I'm only doing this because your old man and mine are practically brothers. You'll obey whatever I and the other guys say. Do you understand?”

 

Theo nodded quickly.

 

Avery released him. “The bum on the couch is Augustus Rookwood.”

 

“I ain't no bum! I'm the only one with a job here,” Rookwood barked.

 

“The one reading is Corban Yaxley. The one next to Rookwood is Scabior. He gets no first name.”

 

Scabior grinned eerily at Theo. “He's going to end up in Azkaban very soon,” Avery murmured. “Thorfinn Rowle and Antonio Travers are the two playing chess.”

 

“Third floor holds the library, a bathroom, and an attic storage place. You'll stay there. A house-elf will bring you food three times a day,” Avery explained. “We stay on this floor and the second one. Once a week you are allowed to visit your father. I'll take you on Wednesdays. Just try to stay out of our way. Got it?”

 

Theo nodded once more. “Welcome to hell,  kid,” Scabior snickered.

 

Avery ushered him up to the third floor, Theo’s new home for the next three months, and left him alone. Theo sighed and plopped down on the mite covered bed. Be invisible, he thought. Learn their strengths and weaknesses. You'll survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the use of Google translate:  
> figlio(italian)-- son  
> pateras(greek)-- father


	5. Who We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has a birthday. Hermione also has a birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter  
> Chapter Warning: none  
> Chapter Lyric: "We were never welcome here. We were never welcome here at all. No. It's who we are. Doesn't matter if we've gone too far. Doesn't matter if it's all okay. Doesn't matter if it's not our day."

“You need to whip that boy in shape,” Abraxas Malfoy commented. “He's a wimp.”  


“Whipping is for muggles,” Cygnus Black spat.  


Draco Malfoy pushed his fork through his food. It was stupid his grandfathers had to come to his birthday dinners. He could only imagine what it would be like if his grandmothers were still around—more arguing probably.  


“It's a figure of speech, Cygnus. It doesn't surprise me that you wouldn't know it. Too much inbreeding in the family.”  


Cygnus whipped his wand out and pointed it at Abraxas, who did the same just as quickly. Draco watched his mother push her father’s wand down. “Enough, father.” She said in a low tone.  


“But you heard what he said,” grandfather Black whined.

 

“It's Draco’s birthday. Lucius, call for Dobby to bring in the cake.”  


“Cake? Have you too gone soft, Lucius?” Abraxas asked. “You didn't have cake at your parties, which why doesn't the boy have one of those? This pathetic family dinner is just pathetic.”

 

“Only because you're here,” Cygnus sneered.  


The wands were out again. Draco watched his parents yell at their fathers and vice versa. Draco pushed his chair out and walked out of the dining room. Nobody came after him. He shivered as he went up the stairs. The Manor was cold for it being June. Granted it was always cold inside the ancient house.

 

This was the life he was destined for, a cold house, a lonely life, and an equally cold and lonely family. This was was his destiny as the Malfoy heir.

 

Draco grabbed a book lying on his bedside table and sat under his window. _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ was Draco’s favorite book so far, with “The Fountain of Fair Fortune” being his favorite story within, but if anyone asked him he would say “The Warlock’s Hairy Heart”. Draco love the fountain story because it made him realize that perhaps he would have a choice some day.

 

“Draco, darling. Are you alright?” He heard his mother ask as she entered his room.

 

Today was not the day Draco would have his choice.  


He set the book down and met his mother’s saddened yet cold face. “I'm fine, mother.”  


Narcissa only nodded. “Your father made both of them leave.” Like he does every year, Draco thought. “Come eat cake and open your gifts, dragon.” Draco followed his mother down the stairs.

  


* * *

 

 

Draco yawned and sat up in bed. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at his clock. It was close to midnight but Draco felt wide awake. “Dobby!” Draco shouted quietly. He didn’t want to wake his parents up.  


Unfortunately for him, the house-elf did not appear. Draco huffed and got out of bed. He wanted a glass of milk. Hopefully, he’d find the crazy elf on the way to the kitchen and wouldn’t have to do it himself.  


The Manor was always colder at night, and even more eery. His feet were cold as he padded along the hardwood floor. He kept his arms wrapped around his body to try and keep warm. Draco stepped around a board he knew was creaky in front of his parents’ room. Up ahead he saw his father’s office door slightly open, the glow of a light creeping through the cracks.

 

Draco started to step away from that side of the hall when he heard his father talking about him. “Perhaps our father’s are right, Cissa,” he heard his father sigh. “Maybe Draco…”

 

“Don’t bother finishing that sentence, Lucius,” his mother snapped.  “He’s only seven.”  


“At seven I was going to work with my father every other week with the other weeks being spent with a tutor. The weekends were reserved social affairs.”

 

Draco slowly peaked through the crack. His father was behind his desk, a glass of what looked to be firewhiskey in his hand, and his mother was sitting across from him.

 

“Admit it, Cissa, Draco needs to be shaped into a Malfoy. He’s pathetic boy who whimpers for things to be done for him. He wears his heart on his sleeve. Malfoys have people do things for them without them realizing. Malfoys demand respect when walking into the room. People are aware when Malfoys are close by. Malfoys don’t let people know how they feel or what they are thinking with a simple look.”  


“He will shape up to be a good man, Lucius,” Narcissa answered. “People only look at you when you walk into the room because they are scared you’ll blackmail them or they want to see if they can see your mark. It’s not for respect.”  


Draco saw his father down the rest of firewhiskey. Smoke came out of his ears. “I’m sending Draco to spend a week with my father and a week with yours. Once he gets back, he’ll start going to work with me some weeks and see a tutor the others.”

 

“Is this necessary, Lucius?”  


“I will not have this family’s name stained by my heir being a pathetic brat,” Lucius said sternly. “All I’ve seen from Draco is him heading down that path. What has he shown that can prove he will do great things?”

 

Draco didn’t wait for an answer from either parent as he raced back to his bedroom feeling himself break. He jumped into his bed and burrowed under his blankets, clutching the stuffed dragon, named Ladon, that was his since birth. The tears streamed down his face.

 

Draco felt broken by his father’s words. He sniffed and wiped his tears away. “Stop it, Draco,” he whispered to himself. “You are a Malfoy and Malfoys do not have feelings.”

 

Draco took a deep breath and peeked above his covers and into the cold darkness of his room. Perhaps he should start to embody his house and then he will make his family proud.

  


* * *

 

 

Hermione Granger spent her time under the willow tree in her backyard. She read, wrote, and drew under that tree. Today she was drawing. A small flower garden was on the opposite side of the tree. Her aunt told her her mother had planted those flowers. In fact, her parents had planted the willow tree when they first started going out their last year in secondary school.

 

The September wind blew her hair around. “Hello Hermione,” The small girl glanced up to see her neighbor standing there. Even though he was only in his fifties, he used a cane. “How are you doing?”

 

“Did my aunt call you, Mr. Marvel?”  


The older man sat next to her. “Monica did call. They got the surprise of being the keynote speakers at their conference in Brussels after the original ones cancelled last minute. She called Mrs. Newton first but she said something about flying pigs.”

 

Hermione blushed, remembering the incident from the night before when the piggy banks flew. No wonder she hadn’t seen Mrs. Newton this morning. She hoped Mr. Marvel didn’t notice this. He seemed to notice everything.  


“So that left me to watch you.”  


“It always seems that way,” Hermione agreed. “Why doesn’t Aunt Mon just ask you first since it always gets handed to you eventually, Mr. Marvel?”  


“I’ve told you before, Hermione, please call me Thomas. I’ve lived next to you since you were two years old.”  


“That’s only five or six years,” Thomas shrugged. “I wish you lived here when my parents were here so you could tell me about them.”  


“But I can’t. You remind me a lot of myself.”

 

“How?” Hermione questioned.  


“Well, we’re both orphans and only children. I, like you, was alone most of the time. Children found me odd and left me alone. It was how I became an avid reader. My books and thoughts kept me company, along with the ambition to prove to everyone that I could do and be anything,” he informed her.  


Hermione nodded. “That sounds like me. What happened to your parents? If you don’t mind me asking that is.”  


“My mother died after having me, and my father was killed by a crazy man down the way from his home,” Thomas answered.  


“We are alike.” Hermione finally agreed.  


Thomas nodded. “At least you have your aunt and uncle to take care of you. I had to live in an orphanage until I went to boarding school.”  


Hermione nodded as a response and continued to draw. Thomas watched her draw. “What are you drawing?” She could hear his voice shake slightly. He must be getting cold, she thought.  


“I don’t really know what it is. It’s burned into the floor of my room. I keep it hidden under a rug so Aunt Mon and Uncle Wendell don’t freak out,” The two stared at the picture of the the snake skull. “Would you like to go inside, Thomas?”

 

“That would be lovely, Hermione. I have some new books you can read while I make dinner and cake.”  


“Why cake?”  


Thomas smiled and helped the girl off the ground. “It is your birthday. Don’t tell me you forgot? Your aunt told me on the phone. Let’s go celebrate.”

  


* * *

 

 

Sometimes Hermione wished she lived with Thomas. He treated her like family, and his house was practically a library. Her aunt and uncle only let her read books that were written for children her age. Thomas, on the other hand, let her read whatever she wanted so long as she was able to read and understand the words on the page.

 

Hermione sat at the table in Thomas’s kitchen. “Am I like your family, Mr. Thomas?”

 

The peppered hair man glanced back at the little girl, who still focused on her book. “Why do you ask that, Hermione?”  


 

She shrugged. “I feel like you are more family to me than my aunt and uncle.”

 

“Take it these two ways, child: ‘ _When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching—they are your family_ ’ and ‘ _All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way’.”_

 

“I didn’t recognize the first quote but the last one is from Tolstoy.”

 

Thomas chuckled. “Very good Hermione. The first one is from an American author you have definitely never heard of. Do you understand what I mean by them?”

 

“There is no such thing as a perfect family. A real one is the people who stick by you and admits their sadness?” She ended it sounding like a question.

 

Thomas only nodded. “Family isn’t made by blood, Hermione. Those who stick with you are your family.”

 

Thomas set plates of fish and chips in front of them. “That makes us family.”

 

Thomas smiled. “I guess it does.”


	6. C'mon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus gets some unexpected news. Adrian sees an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next four chapters (6-9) are just like 2-4. They are important into understanding the backgrounds of our octet and their issues. After that the action begins.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter  
> Chapter Warning: the word poof is used and the f word  
> Chapter Lyric: "C'mon, c'mon with everything falling down around me, I'd like to believe in all the possibilities. Try not to mistake what you have is what you hate. It could leave, it could leave, come the morning."

Marcus loved the feel of the wind whipping through his hair as he rode his broom around the pitch at Hogwarts. He was out in the pitch as often as he could be. The only other student who rivaled him was a Gryffindor a year below named Oliver Wood. This was the only time they forgot about house allegiances. 

 

Like any day, Oliver was out on the pitch with him. “Fancy a race, Flint?” Oliver asked him after the quaffle left his hands and straight into Oliver’s. Wood was only a first year but by far one of the best players Marcus knew. Oliver had to borrow an older Gryffindor’s broom to practice. 

 

Marcus smirked at the first year. “You’re on, Wood.”

 

The two mounted their brooms. “How will we know when to go?” 

 

Marcus only grinned before kicking off. “No fair, Flint!” He heard Wood shout. It didn’t take long for Wood to catch up with him. It was neck and neck the entire time around the pitch. Every now and then Marcus would owl Apollo, who was still having a very successful quidditch career in Portugal, about how he was doing. Apollo would definitely appreciate someone like Oliver. After four laps the two crashed to the ground. “I win.”

 

“You did not!”

 

“Did too!”

 

“Did not!”

 

“Mr. Flint,” Marcus looked up and saw his head of house standing in front of him. “You have been summoned to the headmaster’s office. Wood, get back to your house and 5 points from Gryffindor for being out flying and having a broom as a first year.”

 

Snape headed back to the castle with Marcus in tow. “Did the headmaster say why he wants me?” Marcus questioned. 

 

Snape didn’t answer but instead asked, “Taken to fraternizing with Gryffindors now? I do not believe I’ve ever seen such behavior from Brutus.”

 

“He likes quidditch and so do I.”

 

“And so do plenty of other children in Slytherin,” Snape countered. Marcus stayed quiet. Snape liked Brutus, and Julius when he was still here, but the man seemed to despise Marcus’s existence.

 

The time it took for Marcus to get to the office seemed like an eternity. “Sugar quill,” Snape said. The griffin turned to open up to stairs. “Head on up.”

 

Snape left Marcus alone at the bottom of the stairs. As Marcus took the first step, a draft from upstairs gave him a chill. With each step he took, he could feel that this wasn’t going to be a pleasant visit. At the top of the landing, Marcus gripped his broom tightly and thought about turning back around and running back to the pitch. He could fly away from there. He wasn’t going to be a coward. 

 

Marcus knocked and heard his elderly headmaster tell him to enter. The doorknob seemed to get colder the longer Marcus held it before turning and entering the office. 

 

Brutus sat at the desk. His mother was dressed in all black, including a black veil over her face, sitting in the other chair with Julius behind her. No this was not good. He looked around for his father, the man who was always on his side. He wasn’t to be seen. 

 

“Marcus, darling, please come closer,” his mother said in a sickly sweet voice. She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. With small steps Marcus got closer to his mother and brothers. “Dear children, I must tell you horrible news.”

 

“Where’s father?” Marcus asked.  His mother cupped his hands with hers. 

 

“Your father has passed on, dear son. Illness took him in the night,” she informed them. Marcus ripped his hands out of hers. 

 

“That’s not true! You’re lying. Father hasn’t been sick. He would’ve told me in our letters,” Marcus stuttered. 

 

“He didn’t want to worry you.”

 

“Bullshit!”

 

“Language, Mr. Flint,” Dumbledore said. “I know you and your family are grieving but think of the position your mother must be in. The position your brothers are in. Your mother has arranged for you and Brutus to leave via the floo here in my office tomorrow after your lessons and return sometime Sunday.”

 

Marcus stared at his mother. “He can’t be dead.”

 

“But he is,” his mother replied with an equally cold voice. “You should thank Julius for letting you both attend the funeral. As the new head of house Flint, Julius believed it best for you to take time from your studies to mourn your father properly.”

 

Marcus did the only thing he could do, he walked out of the office, broom in hand. He jumped on his broom the moment he was outside the castle. Oliver was still on the pitch when Marcus flew down. 

 

Oliver smiled. “Snape didn’t scare me away. He just doesn’t like that I’m a Gryffindor. Must’ve been not too bad if your back so soon.”

 

“My father is dead.”

 

“Oh. That sucks. I’m sorry for your loss. At least you still have your mum and brothers,” Oliver said. 

 

“I have no one,” Marcus snapped. “I don’t need pity either.”

 

“Do you just want to fly then? Maybe we could get a quaffle—“

 

“I don’t need you, Wood!” Marcus yelled. “Get away from me. You’re just causing problems.”

 

“What problems am I causing? I’m just trying to help you. I thought we were friends.”

 

“We’re not friends. I could never be friends with a Gryffindor. You’re just trying to find out Slytherin quidditch techniques and thought I’d be the easiest to get them from since it’s my first year. You’re wrong.”

 

Oliver’s face fell. “That’s not true, Marcus. I thought...I thought...never mind. It doesn’t matter what I thought. Clearly we are different people,” Oliver grabbed the broomstick. “I look forward to destroying you on the pitch someday, Flint.”

 

* * *

 

 

It rained Saturday morning. It was more of a down pour Marcus decided while he was sitting next to Brutus on the end. Many had showed up to give their condolences for the passing of Cassius Flint. His mother was still dressed in all black with the black veil covering her face and blond hair. Julius and Brutus looked like twins in their matching black robes and slicked back blond hair. Marcus wore grey robes and left his black hair in its normal downed look. Marcus spotted his uncle Thorfinn next to his mother. 

 

The funeral didn’t last long because of the weather. Once done, people quickly ran into Flint Manor since Cassius was buried on the grounds like the other Flint ancestors. Marcus didn’t move from his seat. 

 

His mother stopped in front him, Thorfinn next to her and Julius and Brutus behind her. “The solicitor is here to read your father’s will. After that we will mingle. You can come back here since the wake is not a good place for you at the moment.”

 

Marcus trailed behind them as they walked through the Manor and into the library where a scrawny wizard with big glasses and too bright green robes was waiting. “Are all parties present?” He asked. His voice reminded Marcus of Professor Flitwick’s squeaky one. 

 

“Portia Flint, Julius Flint, Brutus Flint, Marcus Flint, and Thorfinn Rowle,” his mother introduced. 

 

The solicitor glanced down at his list. “Mr. Rowle is not on here. He’ll have to leave.”

 

Marcus saw his mother stiffen. “Thorfinn is my brother. I request to have him present in my time of mourning.”

 

This was no request. The venom in her words was clear. His uncle Thorfinn was staying in that room. The solicitor must’ve understood because he quickly nodded and took out a single piece of paper from his briefcase. 

 

“This is the last will and testament of Cassius Gaius Flint, finalized 18 August, 1985 in sound mind. To my wife, Portia Calpurnia Flint neé Rowle, I leave to you a quarter of the Flint fortune and all estates except Thornbury Hill. To my eldest son, Julius Cato Flint, I leave an eighth of the Flint fortune, my collection of finely tailored robes, the family house elves, excluding Casca and Cicero, and the stocks I hold. To my second son, Brutus Quintus Flint, I leave to you an eighth of the Flint fortune and the family company. Lastly, to my youngest son, Marcus Tullius Flint, I leave the remaining half of the Flint fortune, my collection of racing and travel brooms, Thornbury Hill, the house elves Casca and Cicero, and the name and title of head and heir of House Flint, effective immediately upon my death and notice of title to Marcus.  _ Iras scintillam irascibilem scintillam _ .”

 

Everyone in the room was dumbfounded. “Marcus cannot he head of the house,” Julius roared. “I am the oldest.”

 

“Your father transferred everything over to Marcus the day he created this will. I was present when Cassius did all the legal procedures. As of two minutes ago, Marcus Tullius Flint is head of the Flint house and makes all grand scale decisions for the name. This isn’t the first time a minor has inherited the title.”

 

“Minor!” His mother cried. “He is underage. Until he reaches of age, I or Julius should have control over it all.”

 

The solicitor shook his head. “Cassius made it possible. Even at age 12 almost 13, Marcus is a legal adult. You have no control over him, Mrs. Flint. He is his own guardian,” The solicitor turned to speak directly to Marcus. “I’ll owl you some papers detailing your new title. I’ve also already sent a letter to Hogwarts detailing this. The Ministry and Gringotts are already aware. Before I go, I should give you these.”

 

He handed Marcus two keys and a ring. Marcus never noticed that Julius was never wearing the Flint ring. “You already know about the ring. The bronze key is for the Flint vault at Gringotts. The black key is for Thornbury Hill. As for you other three, your portions of the fortune have already been put into your vaults. If that is all, I will be heading on my way.”

 

The solicitor scurried out of the room as quickly as he could. “Get out,” his mother snapped as soon as the door shut. “Pack up all your belongs and leave this place. Say good-bye to Cassius’s grave because this is the last time you’ll be seeing it.”

 

“But mother—“ 

 

“Don’t you mother me, Marcus,” she sneered. “You’ve ruined everything and I can’t do anything about it. Get Casca and Cicero to help you pack and leave. I never want to see you here again. Go!”

 

Marcus ran as fast as he could down the hall to his room. Casca and Cicero were already in his room, which was completely bare, when he entered. “We heard little mister Marcus is now our Master,” Casca spoke. “We moved things to little master’s new home when we felt change. We knews miss would not be happy and get rid of little master.”

 

“I’m going to go see my father one last time and then we will go to Thornbury Hill. One of you will have to apparate with me there since I am too young.”

 

Casca took Marcus’s left hand and Cicero his right. “We apparate to see master so Rowle family does not get angry,” Cicero said. 

 

Marcus nodded and felt his stomach tug as the elves apparated them out of the house and landing in the mud in front of his father’s grave. Marcus touched the cold, wet stone. “I’m alone now. I have no one but Cicero and Casca. You were my family. What happened father? Something happened I know it. I recognized the date the solicitor said you changed your will. It was a day Portia, Julius, Brutus, and I went to Diagon. Apollo went to Portugal that day. You came home from work early.”

 

Marcus glanced towards the house. “I’ll find out what happened. I won’t let this family be ruined.  _ Iras scintillam irascibilem scintillam _ .”

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re not the same,” Adrian looked up and saw Terence standing there. Gently he sat down on the couch next to Adrian. It was February now, and this was the first time they had spoken since those years ago. 

 

“I’m still Adrian,” Adrian answered. He looked back down at his book. 

 

“But you’re not Adrian,” Terence reiterated. “You don’t wear your heart upon your sleeve.  You always have the same straight faced look. You’re to the point with everything you do. That’s not the Adrian Pucey I know.”

 

“That was the old Adrian,” he huffed. “This is the real one.”

 

Terence shook his head. “No it’s not. You are better than this, Adrian.”

 

“Terence, just fuck off.”

 

Adrian saw Terence’s jaw drop. If Adrian still felt, his jaw would’ve fell too. Deep down inside he could feel himself wanting to reach out to Terence and pull him back. “Is that how you feel?” Terence choked. Adrian only looked away. “Fine. If that’s how this is now.”

 

Terence stood up. “You were my best friend, Adrian. I never wanted to see you hurt. I loved you, but not this. This isn’t the real you Adrian. This is what you think others want you to be but it’s not. You’re sweet, Ades. You’re kind and caring. This cold shell of no emotion you’ve created is not you. I know the real you is down inside you and I hope it resurfaces because that’s the Adrian Pucey everyone loves. You shouldn’t be this cold. Being like this isn’t good for anyone.”

 

“Don’t make me say it again, Higgs,” Adrian’s voice was as cold as his words. 

 

A small tear ran down Terence’s cheek. “This isn’t you Adrian. I miss you. I miss you so much.” Terence walked away, leaving Adrian alone on the couch with only his book. He picked it up and continued to read, hoping to forget the pain he might be feeling. 

 

* * *

 

 

Adrian felt relieved when he got on to Slytherin’s quidditch team his second year. This is what his grandfather wanted. He didn’t realize until the very first practice that Terence was on the team as seeker. It wasn’t a good thing. The boys on the team were rough. Terence easily got crushed by them. 

 

“Poof! Look harder for the snitch!” The seventh year beater who was captain yelled. “Surely you’re good at finding balls.”

 

Adrian dug his nails into his broom handle. Maybe he wasn’t friends with Terence anymore but he didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. No one did. 

 

Adrian was about to yell when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was another chaser, Marcus Flint. Adrian had heard stories of the boy. His father had died his second year and made him head of the house even though he had two older brothers. His teeth were messed up from his brothers hitting him with a quaffle or bludger. Adrian had seen Marcus’s mother and brothers. They were all short, lean, and blond whereas Marcus was tall with black hair and a muscular build. Many rumors went around about Marcus Flint. Adrian had no idea which were true and false. 

 

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” Flint told him. “He will pummel you if you fight back. Higgs has heard this time and time before. He can handle it.”

 

“But it’s not right,” Adrian whispered. 

 

“Life is never fair, Pucey. The thing is Higgs is the only Slytherin willing to be and good at playing seeker. We can’t risk losing him.”

 

“Is it all about quidditch to you?”

 

“Mostly. Why do you care about him? I, and others, heard your conversation the other day. Here’s a tip: if you’re gonna have a conversation like that, then do it privately and not in the common room.” Adrian blushed. Marcus chuckled and pointed. “This is the best part.”

 

Adrian looked to where Marcus was pointing. Terence was throwing a punch into Flannigan's jaw, who returned a punch into Terence’s gut. Blood dribbled down both cheeks. Cuts and bruises appeared on faces. 

 

“How is this the best part?”

 

Marcus shrugged. “Just is.”

 

“This isn’t fair though.”

 

“Quidditch is never fair. Life isn’t fair. Get it in your head kid. Being nice will get you nowhere.”

 

Adrian sighed. Flint was right. Life wasn’t fair and kindness will get you nowhere. This was something Adrian had been told time and time again. He didn’t want to believe it but perhaps this was the truth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Used google translate (rough latin translation because I forgot to write down what it actually meant)  
> Iras scintillam irascibilem scintillam- spark anger spark agression


	7. Fight Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne goes to Hogwarts. She also attends the Yule Ball. Pansy has a really bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter  
> Chapter Warning: implied abuse, implied non-con(There is no detail about these themes. It is just implied that it happens. If you decide not to read this chapter for these reasons, please do not quit this story! Just PM me and I will explain to you the key parts to this chapter)  
> Chapter Lyric: "And all those things I didn't say. Wrecking balls inside my brain. I will scream them loud tonight. Can you hear my voice tonight?"

Daphne was finally going to Hogwarts. She dreamed of this day since the first time she believed her father knew that she knew she was worth more than he said. He was a cruel man. For that reason Daphne also feared leaving because Astoria would be left there. Over the years, Daphne’s has tried to teach her sister what is right and this is not. Thankfully, Astoria was smart enough to pick up the clues. 

 

The sight of the red engine excited Daphne. This was her escape. Her father put a hand on her shoulder. “I expect your best behavior at Hogwarts.”

 

“Yes father.”

 

“Keep yourself surrounded with purity.”

 

“Yes father.”

 

“And I mean blood, family, talent, and personality. You remember the families to avoid.” Daphne nodded. Her father’s grip tightened. “Response?”

 

“Yes father.”

 

He nodded. “Say goodbye to your mother and sister and then get on the train. Find a compartment and just wait. I will put your trunk on.”

 

“Yes father.”

 

Lyle grabbed the trunk and walked off. Daphne hugged her mother first and said a quick goodbye. Her attention was focused on Astoria. Daphne squeezed her little sister in a tight hug. 

 

“I’m gonna miss you, Daph,” Astoria murmured. 

 

“I’m gonna miss you too, Tori,” Daphne sighed. “You’ll owl me at least once a week, right?”   
  


Astoria nodded. “You owl me too. I’ll try to keep you updated.”   
  


“You remember everything I’ve taught you.”

 

Astoria nodded once more and pulled away. “I will. Father never paid mind to me because I am the youngest. Who knows now though with you being gone. I’ll survive. I’ll keep an eye out for mum too.”

 

Daphne shook her head. “It’s too late for mum, Tori. I know that’s bad to say but it’s true. Focus on yourself.”   
  


“I love you, Daphne.”   
  


“I love you too, Tori.”

 

“Daphne! It’s time,” her father said. Daphne nodded and hugged her sister one last time. Lyle grabbed his daughter as she walked away. “Don’t make a fool of yourself, or us. I will know if you do.”

 

Daphne nodded and her father let her go. As quickly as she could, Daphne got on the train. She wandered towards the rear of the carriages and finally found a compartment to herself. She watched the other children and parents smile, hug, cry, and kiss. She watched children seek out their friends they hadn’t seen in two months. 

 

She saw the backs of her parents’ and sister’s heads as they walked towards the floo. It didn’t surprise her that they were leaving already. Her father wouldn’t dare keep her mother or sister out any longer than was necessary. 

 

Daphne pulled a book out of her bag and began to read. She became absorbed in the fictitious world of a wizard acting like a muggle. Sometimes Daphne wondered if it were better to be a muggle. Even with magic, Daphne felt she was more muggle than witch. She lived a sheltered life. 

 

She was zoned out from the world until she heard the carriage door open. “This carriage is taken,” she said, still staring at her books. 

 

“And so are the others. I’ll only be reading,” Daphne recognized that voice. She hadn’t heard the Welsh boy in years. She looked up to the seat across from her. 

 

Theodore Nott’s dark brown hair was loose and shaggy as if he hadn’t had a haircut in a very long time. His skin was sickly pale, and his amber eyes seemed lifeless. This wasn’t the Theodore Nott who changed her perspective of what life should be.    
  


“Are you okay, Theodore?”

 

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

 

“You just seem so...dead in your eyes. You have no life in your eyes.”

 

“Again, shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”   
  


“Cheeky much?”   
  


Theo shrugged. “A lot has changed in my life since that Christmas party. I’m surprised you haven’t forgotten about me.”

 

“Your words motivated me,” she replied. “I haven’t let my sister be sheltered.”   
  


“And you?”   
  


“I’m doing the best I can for the situation. My main goal has been protecting my sister. He has no idea she understands. What about you? What’s changed in your life?”   
  


“My mother died three years ago and my father has been in and out of the hospital since. I’ve had to live with the son of a friend of my father’s when he’s in the hospital. He lives with a bunch of his friends. They stay on the first two floors while I stay on the third. I don’t ever go down there. I did once,” his voice got colder. “I interrupted a party of theirs once. Couldn’t leave my bed for a week. My house elf has to force feed me puréed food.”

 

Daphne gasped. “Oh Theo!”

 

“Don’t worry about me, Greengrass. It was my first week there. I know how to survive. It’s you I worry about.”

 

“I’m not a china doll. I can take care of myself...as much as an 11 year old can. I have to seem naive to survive. Father doesn’t expect Astoria and I because we play the part.”

 

Theo gave her a small smile. “Seems like you’re learning how much of hell hole this world is. Let’s be honest though, Greengrass, you’ll always be my damsel in distress.”   
  


Daphne chuckled. “Until the day comes when I have to save you.”

 

Theo grinned and stared down at the book in his hands. Daphne swore she saw his cheeks tint. “Never gonna happen.”   
  


* * *

Daphne flattened her green dress. Four years into Hogwarts and life wasn’t very different. Her father still controlled her life and she was utterly alone, except Astoria was now in her second year of Hogwarts. 

 

“You look gorgeous, Daphne,” Astoria sighed dreamily. “I wish I was going to the Yule Ball.”

 

Daphne rolled her eyes. “I would gladly change places with you. This night is going to be terrible I can feel it,” Daphne flipped her hair behind her shoulders and then in front again. “It’s better than being at home.”

 

“So is Prince Charming taking you?” Astoria teased. 

 

Prince Charming was the nickname Astoria had given to Theodore Nott. He found it amusing while Daphne saw it as her sister embarrassing her. It did allow them to easily talk about him without suspicion at places. 

 

“You know he’s not,” Daphne scowled. “You know father arranged for Gregory Goyle to take me because he is pure enough. Charming is going with Tracey Davis. Father loathes his family.”

 

“You are going to dance with Prince Charming though, right?”

 

Daphne sighed as the sisters heard a knock on her door. “One can only hope, Tori,” Daphne walked over and opened the door. “Hello, Gregory.”

 

“Let’s get moving, Greengrass.” He barked. 

 

Daphne nodded and walked out of the room without saying goodbye to her sister. Goyle grabbed Daphne’s arm and dragged her down the stairs. Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy, Millicent Bulstrode, and Vincent Crabbe were waiting at the bottom of the stairs. “We’re going to be late,” Pansy screeched. 

 

“It’s just a fucking dance, Pansy,” Crabbe said. “Let’s just get this night over with.”

 

Goyle yanked Daphne towards the door. She winced in pain. “Goyle, I know you are a complete dunderhead but I would’ve thought that you would at least have the common courtesy to know when you are hurting your date,” The group of Slytherins looked up to see Theodore standing there with Tracey glaring at him. 

 

“She’s fine, Nott. Your date, on the other hand, looks uncared for. I’d take her off your hands but Lord Greengrass is trusting me with his daughter. I could get a good reward out of this,” Goyle grinned. 

 

“I’m sure Daphne would be willing to say that you did your duty. Take Tracey as your date and I’ll watch after Daphne,” Theodore bartered. 

 

“And why would I do that?”   
  


Theodore whispered into Goyle’s ear. Goyle looked over at Tracey when Theodore stepped back. “Let’s go, Davis. Remember this for later, Greengrass.”   
  


Tracy smiled and scurried over to Goyle. The two walked out leaving Daphne and Theodore alone. “Why?” Daphne asked. 

 

“Tracey thinks Goyle is the catch. I was doing all of us a favor.”

 

“I don’t need saving,” Daphne snapped. “You’ve ruined my night.”

 

Theodore shook his head and held out his hand. “Follow me.”   
  


Daphne reluctantly grabbed his hand and let him guide her through the castle. He tugged her up flights of stairs. The air got colder the higher they went. She shivered. They stopped part way up the tower stairs. “Take my cloak,” Theodore instructed and wrapped her in it. 

 

They continued up until they reached the top of the astronomy tower looking out at the snow falling sky. “We’re not supposed to be up here, Theodore! We’ll get in trouble.”

 

“No we won’t. Everyone is either at the ball or in their common room or at home,” He flicked his wand. The air warmed up and music began to play. “Dance with me, my damsel in distress.”   
  


Daphne rolled her eyes as they swayed to the rhythm. “One of these days I will save you.”

 

Theodore chuckled. “I’ll most likely save you at least a dozen more times until then, but I look forward to the day when I can tell my captors they’ll wish they never messed with Daphne Eloise Greengrass.”

 

Daphne’s eyes widened. “Astoria is going to rue this day.”

 

Theodore smiled. “I shall remember to never say that again and to never mess with you again. You are a spectacle, even angry.”

 

Daphne leaned her head on Theodore’s shoulder. “I will always cherish this moment.”

 

“It won’t be the last...even with all that is coming.” She picked her head up and green eyes met amber eyes. They both knew what that meant. For the first time in years, Daphne found someone else she wished to keep alive besides just her sister.    
  


* * *

Pansy Parkinson became the closest thing she could to perfection. She made everyone aware that she was better than them. Her mother praised her third year for getting Draco Malfoy to be her boyfriend and again in fourth year for being her date to the Yule Ball. Her father praised her fifth year for becoming a prefect, a title Basil never achieved. 

 

But now it had all caught up to her. It caught up to all the Slytherins in fact. Many people, like Pansy and not just in Slytherin, had people in alignment with the dark. She would be next. It had already happened to Draco, who was only her friend now and it was better that way. 

 

Pansy brushed blush over her cheeks. She brushed her hair. She did her best to cover up how tired she was. She could just imagine her mother and brother making comments about her look and actions.    
  


She grabbed her books and headed to Potions. She couldn’t stand Slughorn. He was a suck up with a stupid club. She sat down next to Draco. 

 

“You look like hell,” he whispered. 

 

Pansy snorted. “You’re one to talk. It would take kilograms of blush, concealer, and all sorts of facial products to cover up your bags.”

 

Draco gave her a weak smile. “Is your homework done?” She asked him. 

 

Draco nodded. “Salazar bless Theo’s soul. Started a new rumor for today?”

 

Pansy smirked. It didn’t surprise her that Draco had figured what she was doing. “A little bit more on Boot’s animated mole. I have a meeting with Warrington later. Perhaps people will find out he has a micropenis.”

 

“But that’s not a rumor,” Pansy glanced at him skeptically. “Quidditch, woman! I know from quidditch. I don’t swing that way.”

 

“Students!” Slughorn shouted. “Today you are all going to try and make the peace draught. The person with the best one gets to come to my Slugclub Christmas party. Begin!”

 

Pansy saw Draco perk at the mention of the party. “Draco…”

 

“I need this, Pansy. I need this like you need blush and contour.”

 

“But you don’t, Draco. You don’t need this,” He stares at her incredulously. “Oh shut up.”

 

* * *

Warrington grunted before pushing Pansy off of him. “Thanks for that,” Warrington grinned. “Part of your makeup came off. You should fix that.” Pansy got off the bed and started putting on her clothes. “Where are you going?”

 

“To study in the library. I have exams to prepare for,” Pansy answered as she buttoned her blouse.    
  


Warrington sat up. “Why would you do that? You’re just going to end up being a society wife, Parkinson. All Hogwarts is for you is learning the basics for your magic.”   
  


Pansy scoffed. “I’m more than just a pretty face, Cassius.”   
  


Warrington cackled. “Bullshit and I’ll show you why.”   
  


Pansy was confused until he threw back onto the bed and started to open up her blouse. “What are you doing?” Pansy stuttered. 

 

“Showing you that all you are is a pretty face, even if you aren’t close to the greatest looking girls I’ve seen.”   
  


Pansy didn’t cry until after it was all over and she was in her room. Never in her life had she hated the thought of being pretty until that moment. She was quiet for days and tried to stay as far away as she could from Cassius Warrington. He had shown her that all she was was a pretty face. She believed now that’s all she could be, and even then she wasn’t very pretty. 

 

“Are you okay, Pans?” Blaise asked her one day after charms. Draco was sick. “You haven’t been yourself lately.”   
  


“I’m fine,” she snapped. “You wouldn’t understand even if I tried to explain it to you.”

 

Blaise sighed. “You can’t be broken too, Pansy. First Draco, then Theo, even though he always seems depressed, and now you. I can’t lose you too, Pansy. Daphne can’t lose you either. Draco and Theo can’t lose you. Please let me help. I can get anything you need.”

 

She shook her head. “Vain and beauty won’t help with this. Just drop it, Blaise.”

 

For now, everything inside of her had been crushed with no hope of returning. She realized she was far from the perfection she thought she was close to achieving. Beauty wouldn’t make life better. 


	8. One Foot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaise can't go to Hogsmeade and pokes at others' vices. Theo sends a letter home and waits for a friend while deciding his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter  
> Chapter Warning: mentions of negative vices  
> Chapter Lyric: "Cross my heart and hope to die. Taking this one step at a time. Got your back if you got mine. One foot in front of the other."

Blaise spent the first year of Hogwarts answering questions about his mother. He spent his second year answering questions about the death of his mother’s sixth husband. Now it was third year. 

 

Blaise spent the summer with Talbert because Elara was in Costa Rica or maybe Brazil. Blaise couldn’t remember. She was somewhere in South America. After he started Hogwarts, his mother was rarely around. Blaise considered himself a full functioning adult now and loved to boast to others that fact. 

 

He was reaping the consequences now. “But she was never home!” Blaise argued. “I take care of myself. Talbert, my elf, signed right below my name.”

 

Professor McGonagall shook her head. “I am sorry, Mr. Zabini. The only way you can attend the Hogsmeade trip is if you had your mother sign the permission slip. Since she did not, you have to stay here.”

 

Blaise looked at his friend Draco. “Drake, can’t you do something?” Draco shook his head and started walking to the carriages with Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy. 

 

“There is plenty to do here, Mr. Zabini. Besides, you aren’t the only student staying behind,” McGonagall said. “However, I will allow you to owl your mother a copy of their permission slip to sign. This is your only second chance. If she does not, then you will just have to wait until next year.”

 

Blaise nodded and took the piece of parchment. He watched his friends and classmates ride off to Hogsmeade. 

 

This is stupid and unfair, Blaise thought. I deserve to be on that trip. 

 

Blaise stalked back towards his room in the dungeons. He slumped onto his bed and stared at the permission slip. He sighed before crumpling it up and throwing it into the corner. His mother wouldn’t sign it. She didn’t even bother to return his owls. This was supposed to be the perfect life. He would just have to be the ruler of Hogwarts when the others were gone. 

 

* * *

 

Life got worse. Blaise became a prefect and seeker sixth year because Draco had too much too handle. He noticed Draco wasn’t the only one in trouble. Pansy looked like death almost every day and slept with anyone. Daphne was purple. Goyle’s fists were always bloody. Theo seemed to be angry and depressed. Crabbe was drinking whenever he could. Millicent was in the bathroom after every meal. Tracey could be found on the balconies during her free time smoking muggle cigarettes. Blaise took pride in being the only one not in trouble with some sort of demon, and he made sure to remind people of that. 

 

Two months into the year, only the sixth year Slytherins were in the common room. The rest were outside enjoying the final days of good weather or in the library. Blaise glanced around at his fellow housemates.  

 

Draco was sitting in an arm chair staring at the clock. Pansy was half asleep on the opposite side of the couch from him. Daphne was staring at the ground while sitting next to Goyle, who was massaging his hands. Theo was sitting against a wall trying to read but always glancing up at Daphne every minute. Crabbe was next to Goyle drinking out of a flask. Millicent was walking out of the restroom. Tracey was next to the fire staring at it and biting her nails while constantly fidgeting. 

 

“You’re all so fucked up,” Blaise said after he was done observing. All of classmates looked up at him. “You’re all pathetic. You’ve succumbed to demons without a fight. You’re suppose to be Slytherins!”

 

“What does this mean, Zabini?” Crabbe growled.

 

“You all should’ve had the ambition to win.”

 

“We do,” Millicent sneered. “It doesn’t have to be visible. It’s a constant struggle.”

 

“You could’ve been cunning and outwitted those demons and struggles.”

 

“How can we do that if we are fighting ourselves?” Theo snapped. “You cannot outwit yourself without leading to your death. If our demons are not ourselves, then they are someone who is stronger and more powerful than ourselves. How do we escape that without harming ourselves?”

 

Blaise scoffed. “That is pathetic rubbish, Nott. You say that to try and justify why you are such a lazy arse.”

 

“Shut up, Zabini!” Draco screeched. “Just shut up. All of us are struggling at this minute, so just shut up and leave us be.”

 

“I struggle with nothing.”

 

“Bullshit,” Pansy argued. “You’re vain and alone. We all know you’ve never been on a Hogsmeade trip because your mother won’t sign the permission slip. We know you absolutely despise your mother. Sorry about the loss of your stepfather. Wasn’t that husband number seven? We know you have to take care of yourself. You think you’re better than us, Zabini. Newsflash, you're not; you are as beaten as the rest of us.”

 

Blaise jumped up yelling, “Shut up! I am better than all of you! I am! I’ll prove it to you all! I’ll prove it!” He collapses to his knees sobbing. “I’ll prove it. I’m better. I’ll prove it to you, mother. I’m worth it.”

 

It was in that moment he and his housemates realized how damaged he truly was. Blaise wasn’t special; he was broken just like the rest of them.    
  


* * *

 

Theo refused to join Umbridge’s inane squad. He watched the terror it created throughout the halls of Hogwarts. It reminded Theo of the years he lived with Avery and his companions. He didn’t live with them this past summer because his father was better and the Dark Lord was back. He visited his father one day. Finley had told Theo, who stayed in his bedroom for the duration of the visit. 

 

The air was cold the December morning Theo was walking up the stairs of the owlery to send off a letter to his father. He was hoping to return home for Christmas, but only if his father was doing well. His short-eared owl, named Styx, was in a corner by herself. The other owls seemed to be congregated on the opposite side of the tower. 

 

“Hello girl,” Theo whispered, scratching the top of the owl’s head. Styx nuzzled into his touch. “I need you to take this letter to patéras. Make sure he reads it right away.”

 

The owl cooed and opened her beak. Theo chuckled and reached into his pocket where he had a dead mouse. He swore Styx glared at him. He knew mice were not her favorite. “I promise to give you vole once you are successfully back. Now eat your breakfast so I can give you the letter.”

 

She twitched her head to the side and snatched the mouse out of his hand, swallowing it in one gulp. Theo tied the letter to her ankle. She hopped, indicating she wanted him to carry her outside to fly off. “You can be such a lazy yet brilliant bird,” He stretched out his arm allowing Styx to hop on it. “Look at this, you have me trained when I’m the one who is supposed to be in control.”

 

He stepped out onto the landing. “Be careful, Styx. Swear to me you will return.” Styx cooed and took off. 

 

“Well, well, well, what are you doing out here so early, Nott?” Theo looked over and saw Warrington leaning against the tower. “You know it’s against the rules.”

 

“Then what are you doing out here?” Theo asked. 

 

“The High Inquisitor has started to set up morning ground patrols to catch rule breakers like you. So I’ll ask you again Nott, what are you doing out here this early?”

 

“Well, since I’m at the owlery and you just saw me with an owl that flew away, it can be concluded that I am sending a letter,” Theo answered. “I truly thought you had more brains, Cassius.”

 

“That’ll be detention with the High Inquisitor, Nott,” Cassius sneered. “Let’s go.”

 

Theo followed without arguing. This wouldn’t be his first detention with the toad herself. He got one a month before after Filch had caught him heading to the common room through secret passages from the infirmary around midnight. He could feel his hand burn at the thought. Cassius knocked three times before entering. “Breakfast starts in ten minutes, Mr. Warrington. I thought you would be done with patrol by now.”

 

Cassius tanked Theo in front of him. “I found Theodore Nott at the owlery.”

 

Theo saw Umbridge sitting behind her desk with her sick smile etched on her face. “What were you doing out this early, Mr. Nott? Thought you could be invisible again?”

 

Theo shook his head. “No ma’am. I was sending my father a letter. Home is far from here and I wanted to make sure it would get to him in time with plenty of response time. He’s not as young as he used to be.”

 

“I’m well aware. I was a first year his seventh year. Leopold Nott would’ve been quite the catch,” she giggled. Theo shuddered at the thought. “I want 250 lines of ‘I must not wander’. After that, you may go to breakfast or your first class, depending on how long it takes you.”

 

Cassius shoved Theo into the chair in front of her desk. She set a piece of parchment and one of her quills down in front of him. “Mr. Warrington, I award Slytherin five points for catching this rule breaker, alas I must take five away for him breaking the rules; however, if you tell Professor McGonagall that I may or may not be at breakfast because I’ve been detained, Slytherin will be awarded five points. I will supervise, Mr. Nott here. Please begin.”

 

Theo picked up and the quill and gulped. He began writing “I must not wander”. After 25 lines, he could feel the words being etched into his skin. He saw the words appear at line 50 on his right hand. He glanced to the back of his left hand as he wrote and watched the line “I must be visible” move across the page. 

 

“None is this would’ve happened if you joined the cause, Mr. Nott,” Umbridge said. “You could’ve avoided your pain. Yes others would feel pain but you wouldn’t. You would be free and in charge. You would be rewarded for your hard work. Was this worth your decision?”

 

Theo didn’t reply. He knew it was worth it. Umbridge was all about power, control, and recognition. Those were her weaknesses. Theo smiled through the pain. He finally discovered how to truly be invisible.    
  


* * *

 

Theo watched the flames dance in the fireplace. “What are you doing up, Theo?” He turned to see Daphne standing there with Pansy. He noticed Blaise walk down the stairs from the boys’ dormitories. 

 

“I’m waiting,” Theo answered. “He’s gotta come back.”

 

“Drake’s not coming back,” Blaise said. “They’ll take him with. He’d be a liability here.”

 

“He doesn’t want Draco dead yet,” Pansy whispered. They all knew she was right. This was punishment for the Malfoys’ mistakes. “It’s an awful thought but he’ll make it out of here alive.”

 

“But will we?” Theo asked. “I’ve witnessed what will happen to us. My father and Him are mates, best mates. We’re stuck. I’m not going down with this shit. My mother always told me to believe in what I want. I think these ideals are stupid but I act like I agree because it’s safer. This is our life now.”

 

Daphne stepped forward and hugged him. “Don’t think like that, Theo.”

 

“Can I admit I’m scared?” Pansy asked quietly. “I’m scared out of my mind for what will come. I can’t sleep.”

 

Daphne agreed. “I don’t want people hurt. Part of me wants Potter to win so he can get rid of my father.”

 

“Has it gotten worse?” Theo asked concerned.

 

“I got a letter from him this morning. I’ve been arranged to marry Goyle after our seventh year ends.”

 

“No!” Theo argued. “You can’t, Daph. I won’t let you.”

 

Daphne put her hand on his cheek. “We can’t do anything about it,” He put his hand over hers. “We just have to enjoy our time together.”

 

“Marry me, Daphne Greengrass. Be my wife. Let’s be happy before this world becomes utter shit.”

 

Pansy hacked. “You two make me sick because you are so in love.”

 

“What if I could solve your problem?” Blaise asked. “My grandfather died a couple months ago. The Selwyn’s use an archaic system that passes the family title to the oldest boy, or perhaps my grandfather didn’t trust my mother which wouldn’t surprise me. The point is to get married you need an official member of the Wizengamot and I hold the Selwyn seat. Just give me time to draw up the binding paperwork and you’ll be Mr. and Mrs. Nott by the time we get on the train.”

 

“Perhaps there is some good in you,” Pansy smirked. “I regret what I said to you towards the beginning of the year.”

 

Theo turned back to his love. He could hear the chaos outside the wall; the fight had begun. Daphne wiped away the tear on his cheek. “I see you, Theodore,” she whispered. 

 

He grinned at her answer before smashing his lips onto hers. The chaos grew louder as the battle raged on, but Theo didn’t care because someone finally saw him. 


	9. Whatever It Takes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has mixed emotions about life. Hermione leaves for her first year, and she also leaves to go hunting. Mr. Marvel gives her some gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter  
> Chapter Warning: None  
> Chapter Lyric: "Falling too fast to prepare for this. Tripping in the world could be dangerous. Everybody circling it's vulturous. Negative, nepotist. Everybody waiting for the fall of man. Everybody praying for the end of times. Everybody hoping they good be the one."

“Stupid Saint Potter,” Draco muttered to himself and chucked a rock into the Black Lake. Seconds later the rock spit back up and hit him in the face. Clearly the giant squid was not happy today. 

  
  


Draco expected Potter to be home by now but the universe seemed to love Potter. McGonagall catches Potter flying when he isn’t supposed too, he gets put on the Quidditch team; Potter messes with a troll, he gains points and friends; Draco catches Potter out late with a dragon, Draco, Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom get a detention together with Hagrid, Potter’s good friend; Potter goes into a restricted area and faces an evil professor, he gets house points; Slytherin wins the house cup, Gryffindor gains last minute brownie points and becomes the winner making Slytherin second. 

  
  


Draco sighed and plopped onto the grass. The train was to leave in two hours and Draco wanted one last look at the lake, his favorite place at Hogwarts. It took him forever to ditch Crabbe and Goyle. They had a forced friendship ever since Draco was seven. Until that point, Theo was Draco’s best friend but his mother died, his father got sick, and he moved in with some family friend that was pretty much completely in seclusion. 

  
  


“Are you okay, Draco?” Draco turned around to see Pansy prance towards him. “I volunteered to come find you because otherwise it would’ve been Crabbe and Goyle.”

  
  


“It’s just stupid Potter,” Draco growled and chucked another rock into the lake. “He gets all the attention. It’s stupid.”

  
  


Pansy rolled her eyes. “He’s just soaking up the attention. It’ll be fine next year, Draco. Everyone will get over it.”

  
  


“They better. I’m sick of it,” Draco grabbed another rock to chuck, but he sighed and dropped it instead. “I want to feel important, Pansy. I want others to know I’m good and loyal like Weasley, smart and clever like Granger, and brave and heroic like Potter. I want to mean something to people, but with the way my life is set up, I don’t have that path as a choice. Don’t mention this to anyone.”

  
  


Pansy grinned and grabbed Draco’s hand. “I won’t. Wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation now, would I? Come on, let’s go check our trunks one last time and go home. Perhaps you can work on your Quidditch skills and be honored as the next quidditch god.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Draco had felt honored when the Dark Lord appointed him with a special task. After he was told what exactly it was did Draco realize it was a punishment. The whole task sucked the life out of him and made him want to be dead. 

  
  


But he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to bleed out on the bathroom floor. Like most days, today was no different in the fact that Draco was absolutely exhausted and need to cry. He did so in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Myrtle had became a confidant to him. She also mentioned that he reminded her of a boy she went to school with. Myrtle made life a little easier. 

  
  


Sometimes his friends helped out as best as they could. They made sure, along with Severus, that no one found out what was going on. 

  
  


Draco hadn’t realized Potter was on his case until he saw the boy who lived standing behind him with his wand out in the mirror. From the moment Draco turned around, his brain was shut off and he fought for his secrets, his family, and his life. He didn’t see another choice in sight. 

  
  


Now he was paying the price, laying on the floor in pool of red tinted water as he bled out. He could hear Potter and Severus yelling in the background, but it was too static for him to understand. The world was going white and black and grey around him. The grey stood out the most. 

  
  


He could feel the his wounds being closed as the world grew darker and Draco retreated into his own mind. This is how his life was going to be Draco realized. He was going to fight for his life from all sides. He had no choice if he wanted to live. Nobody trusted him, except Theo, Pansy, and Daphne. Crabbe And Goyle were loyal but Draco knew there was no trust there. Blaise could potential be an ally. It was still unclear. He had allies outside the grounds too. Those were the ones who wouldn’t kill him. 

  
  


He cried on the inside, and maybe he did on the outside too. This was his life. There was no choice that could change that. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Hermione was ecstatic to leave for her first day, but she was also nervous. Except for the books she had read, she knew nothing about the magical world. She sat on the front steps of her house and watched her uncle put her trunk in the back of the car. 

  
  


“Leaving for school?” Hermione jumped at the sound of her neighbor’s voice. 

  
  


“Hello, Thomas. I am leaving for school. You won’t see me until Christmas,” Hermione answered, smiling up at the man who was the closest person in her life. “What are you going to do without me?”

  
  


Thomas chuckled and leaned against stair railing. “I don’t know. Our chats and outings are quite fun. I’ve been thinking about dabbling into family history. I know I had some ancestors from Ireland. I’ve been thinking about going there for a few months.”

  
  


“That sounds lovely. If your back for Christmas, you’ll have to tell me about your travels.”

  
  


“Time to go, Hermione. Monica is already in the car,” Uncle Wendell said walking up the sidewalk. “Hello Thomas. Saying goodbye?”

  
  


“Of course. There’s no way I’d let her leave without a goodbye and giving her this since you’ll be at school for your birthday,” Thomas handed Hermione a wrapped present and letter. “Open whenever you want. Perhaps on the train. It is a long ways to Scotland.”

  
  


Hermione smiled and accepted the gift. “Thank you, Thomas. I’ll miss you.”

  
  


She hugged the older man. He chuckled and gently hugged her back. “And I will miss you, Hermione. Better get a move on so you don’t keep your aunt waiting and miss the train.”

  
  


Hermione nodded and raced to the car. “Saying goodbye to your best friend?” Hermione nodded and buckled herself in. Wendell began driving towards London. “What’s the present for?”

  
  


“It’s my birthday gift since I won’t be here. I think I’m going to open it now.” Hermione ripped the paper off and found copies of  _ Anna Karenina _ ,  _ The Count Of Monte Cristo _ , and  _ The Winter’s Tale _ . These were her favorite books. 

  
  


Monica glanced back to see the gift. “Those books aren’t right for your age, but I’m not about to take away your gift.” Monica turned back to talk to her husband about some new type of floss. 

  
  


Hermione stared at the books grinning. She opened and read the letter next. 

  
  


_ Queen Hermione, _

  
  


_ “Though I am not naturally honest, I am sometimes so by chance”. For me personally, I have never read such a truthful line. Actually that is a lie, I can think of seven better ones off the top of my head. Going to boarding school is a new chapter in life. I was your age when I left the orphanage for boarding school.  _

 

_ As I’ve said many times in the past, you and I are similar, and I know one thing I desired was perfection. Tolstoy was correct when he said, “If you look for perfection, you’ll never be content”. Do not let perfection control your life. There is no such thing as perfection just as there is no such thing as light and dark and good and bad. “All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life is made up of light and shadow”. This is the concept of yin and yang—you need good to equal out the bad even though everything is a mixture of both. Order and chaos go hand in hand just like left and right.  _

 

_ I bring this up because children your age are idiots. “Hatred is blind; rage carries you away; and he who pours out vengeance runs the risk of tasting a bitter draught”. I have made foolish mistakes in my past because of this. Don’t let anyone tell you you don’t belong at this fancy school. You do just as much as the rest.  _

 

_ These are my lessons of guidance to you. I feel the need to pass on my wisdom because, as we’ve said many times in the past, we are family. We’ve been through a lot, Hermione. I was cleaning out my attic the other day and I found a box of pictures you had made me along with the cloak I wore and the crown you wore during the tiring escapades as the princess warrior and the warlock. I want you to have fun and focus on the greatness youth can be. I grew up too fast and I don’t want that for you. You’re going to do great things at this school. If you ever need me, just write to me at the address on the sticky note.  _

 

_ Remember: “When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching—they are your family”. I’ll always be on your side.  _

  
  


_ Your friend and family, Warlock Thomas Marvel _

  
  


Hermione smiled at letter. Thomas’s letter made her feel better. She was ready to prove her worth to the magical world. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Waves of nerve washed over Hermione as she stepped out of her house and closed the door. She had just obliviated her aunt and uncle. She looked around her neighborhood one last time before heading to her backyard. She sat under the willow tree for a final time. 

  
  


The July wind kept her cool from the hot sun as she leaned against the tree. She would definitely miss this tree the most. It held many memories. 

 

“Reminiscing?” 

 

Hermione’s eyes snapped opened. She forgot about him. “Oh, hello Thomas. How are you?”

 

“I’m well, and yourself?”

 

“Just peachy,” She noticed men walking in and out of his house. “What’s going on?”

 

Thomas glanced behind him. “I’m moving out. The place has gotten too big for me and I’ve decided to travel more and accomplish other goals I should’ve years ago. I’m going to miss this place.”

 

Hermione nodded. “I will too,” she agreed. Her hands balled into a fist after realizing her slip up. 

 

“Going to university or exploring right after you graduate then? I wouldn’t want to come back to this small town either after I’ve gotten a taste of the world,” Thomas smiled. “I was hoping to see you before leaving. I have a gift. I found it during my most, uh, recent travels.”

 

Thomas reached into his pocket and pulled out a bracelet made of silver and gold with emeralds, sapphires, rubies, and peridot decorating it. 

 

“This is beautiful.”

 

“The colors reminded me of you talking about your boarding school. I thought you’d like it. Happened to find it in Scotland too.”

  
  


“I will treasure this. I suppose this is goodbye for us then,” Hermione said, relieved that she wouldn’t need to worry about obliviating Thomas. 

 

Thomas shrugged. “I’m certain we will meet again. For now, yes this is goodbye, but family sticks together.”

 

“Fate does have a funny way of keeping family together,” Her mind wandered to the thoughts of her friends and how they are with their families and how little they truly know about hers. “Then I guess this isn’t goodbye.”

 

“It’s not. I’ve told you before, it’s the people who stand by you through hell without flinching who are your family. We’ve both been through hell and have never flinched .”

 

Hermione agreed. She glanced at watch and realized she need to meet up with the others at Harry’s place in Little Whinging. “I have some friends I have to meet, Thomas. I will miss you.”

 

Thomas initiated a hug, which Hermione greatly accepted. “It’s only natural to miss family. We’ve been through lots together from scraped knees to political debates to breakdowns to parole hearings. We have yet to flinch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for war?


	10. This Is War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is May 2, 1998. This is what happened to our characters on that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter  
> Chapter Warning: None (it is the Battle of Hogwarts though)  
> Chapter Lyric: "A warning to the people, the good and the evil. This is war. To the soldier, the civilian, the martyr, the victim. This is war. ... A warning to the prophet, the liar, the honest. This is war. To the leader, the pariah, the victor, the messiah. This is war. It's the moment of truth and the moment to lie. And the moment to live and the moment to die. The moment to fight, the moment to fight."

**May 2**

 

Marcus lived for days when the sun was rising in the east and he was out riding his broom. It had been ten years since his father died and Marcus took over the Flint name and Thornbury Hill. He was a member of Puddlemere United now, along with old foe Oliver Wood.

 

“What are you doing here this early?” Marcus glanced over to see Oliver flying next to him.

 

“I should ask you the same thing,” Marcus answered.

 

“The wards detected a breech and I came to find out if it was a death eater or not,” Marcus was confused. Oliver explained, “The threats have been getting worse. How you didn’t know the rest of the team is out of the country or in hiding is beyond me. I put up the wards, with a little help, in case someone tried to break in here to get information on the others whereabouts and locations. So I ask once again, what exactly are you doing here, Flint?”

 

“I came to fly. The wards beyond my house are breaking and I haven’t been able to fix them because of threats. My brothers and uncle are death eaters,” He noticed Oliver stiffen. “You know that I’m not in contact with them. I wouldn’t betray this team. I wanted to feel free. The threats is why I haven’t been at practice lately.”

 

Oliver went to open his mouth when a blue hare came between them. “Hello Oliver, Luna here. Death eaters are attacking Hogwarts and we need reinforcements. Either apparate into the infirmary or floo there.”

 

The hare disappeared. “What was that?”

 

“A patronus. I need to get to Hogwarts,” Oliver flew down towards the locker room. “You coming?”

 

Marcus flew done towards. “I’m going home.”

 

Oliver stopped. “What? Don’t you want this to end?”

 

“Yeah but this isn’t my fight.”

 

“I know you have family on the other side but—“

 

“This has nothing to do with them!” Marcus barked. “This just isn’t my fight. I wouldn’t be welcomed on either side. The Flint house is neutral.”

 

“But your brothers are not neutral.”

 

Marcus snorted. “There’s more to them. Flint is only a name. In fact, I am the only Flint,” Marcus tightened his grip on the broom. “Do me a favor, if you see Julius, Brutus, and Thorfinn Rowle out there, make them suffer.”

 

Oliver sighed. “Are you sure about this, Marcus? You could make a difference.”

 

Marcus grabbed the floo powder and stepped into the floo. “Thornbury Hill!”

  


* * *

 

 

**May 2**

 

After two years of being a healer, Adrian knew it was not possible to get any sleep in the on-call room, yet he was trying anyway. Being an emergency trauma healer, Adrian never knew what, or who, would appear in St Mungo’s. Adrian shut his eyes tightly. He heard the door slam open.

 

“We have three injured wizards, Healer Pucey,” he recognized it was a medi-witch, Heidi Macavoy. “A cruciatus, an expulso, and lycacomia.”

 

Adrian jumped up. “Merlin, what the bloody hell is going on!”

 

The two rushed towards the main hallway. “C5, A7, B3, and D9 have patients!” Another healer yelled.

 

“Who’s in D9?”

 

“Entrail-expelling.”

 

A scream erupted from D9. “Someone needs to get healer Wilson here.”

 

Two more medi-witches pushed through. “Engorged skull in E4!”

 

“And perhaps healers Thompson and Featherby too.” Adrian took a deep breath in the middle of chaos. “Summon all the healers you can, Macavoy. Healer Clearwater, work on patient A7. Medi-witch Fawcett, you need to calm C5 down and isolate the center. Wilson will be sent there when she arrives. Midgen, you need to get B3 sedated for Featherby.” One healer came through the floo. “Towler, help Thompson with E4. I’ve got D9.”

 

Adrian rushed to D9. A mediwitch was trying to put a stomach back in. Adrian quickly swooped into action. The patient groaned when his stomach was back in. “Did you not sedate the patient, Bole?” Adrian asked angered.

 

“Adrian?”

 

Adrian snapped to the patient. “Oh Merlin, Terence. What the hell happened?”

 

“Battle at Hogwarts,” he coughed. Adrian moved his intestines around, earning another groan from Terence. “Hit by death eater. Had to protect kids. We were all there...apparate each other out before anti-apparition wards went up.”

 

“Terence, I’m going to have to sedate you to finish this up or you might not live. You need to be strong,” Adrian whispered as he waved his wand.

 

“I trust you, Pucey. Just save lives,” Terence muttered before being fully asleep.

 

Adrian turned to Bole. “My cousin goes there still,” he whispered. “Pucey, a school ain’t the place for war.”

 

“We just need to fix him up and move on to the others,” Adrian said, moving around a few organs. “This day has only started.”

  


* * *

 

 

**May 2**

 

Daphne stayed in the farthest corner with Pansy, Blaise, and Theo. “We have to get back up there,” Theo said. “They can’t decide if we fight or not.”

 

“Enough, Theo,” Blaise groaned, leaning his head black against the grimy brick wall. “We are stuck in this dungeon.”

 

“Theo, please calm down,” Daphne pleaded. “This is already scary enough.”

 

Pansy sniffled next to her. “I shouldn’t have said that about Potter. I shouldn’t have said it.”

 

“It’ll be okay, Pansy,” Daphne patted her shoulder. “You were just scared, just like the rest of us.”

 

The dungeon door rustling and all the Slytherins held their breaths waiting for it to open. The door pushed open and relief swept through the group at the sight of platinum blond hair.

 

“You guys need to get out of here,” his voice was hoarse. “Daph, Pans, get them out of here through that passage ‘round the corner by the spare stock room. It’ll lead you guys to the abandoned shop on the edge of Hogsmeade. Theo, Blaise, I need you to help me.”

 

Blaise ran off with Draco immediately. Pansy started herding children into groups. Daphne saw her sister stand firmly next to Pansy, waiting for her to come over. Theo wrapped his arms around Daphne. She gripped him tightly.

 

“Please be careful,” Daphne whispered. “Don’t do anything stupid. I need you to live, Theo. We need you, Theo.”

 

He nodded into her shoulder and mumbled against her neck, “I promise, agápi, and in my return you can crown me with laurel,” Theo winked.

 

Daphne chuckled and kissed him hard. “I love you so much.”

 

“And I you.”

  


* * *

 

 

**May 2**

 

Pansy was the last to climb out of the hole and into the abandoned shop. Daphne had been the first to make sure all other children got in safely. She found Daphne standing in front of the windows with Astoria. She joined them.

 

The sky was glowing in the distance. Pansy realized they were watching heavy wand fire. “Do you think they are alright?” Daphne asked.

 

“They’ll be fine,” Pansy tried to reassure her, though she wasn’t very convinced herself.

 

Astoria gripped onto her sister. Pansy glanced back. Everyone seemed to be huddled in groups. She could hear the cries and whimpers coming from them.

 

“Please be over soon,” she whispered to herself. “Please, please, please.”

  


* * *

 

 

**May 2**

 

Blaise threw a brick to the side and kept going. At this time, Draco was having Blaise and Theo move rubble. Blaise did not see the point in this. All the people were getting out and they were heading to safety.

 

“We are going to safety, right Drake?” Blaise shouted ahead.

 

Draco turned back. “No we aren’t. I’ve already lost Crabbe and I don’t know where Goyle is. You two are helping me.”

 

Theo stopped. “I’m not helping you with anything involving Riddle.”

 

“Riddle?” Blaise was confused, and from the looks of it, so was Draco.

 

“Tom Riddle,” Theo said. The boys only blinked. Theo sighed. “Tom Riddle is the Dark Lord. That’s how my father refers to him most of the time because barely anyone knows that is his name.”

 

“This isn’t for Him,” Draco finally answered. “This is for us. I need to get out of here with my family but I had just needed to make sure that the rest of this family is safe.”

 

“Being a coward?” Blaise asked. “We would’ve been fine down there.” The sound of a wall clattering hit their ears followed by a few screams. “See it’s more dangerous here.”

 

“Then leave, Zabini,” Theo barked. “That’s what you and your mother are good at. Heard she’s in France because this war is hurting her chances of finding a new husband.”

 

Blaise chucked a piece of brick and almost hit Theo in the head. “I am better than her! Now let’s get moving.”

 

Blaise moves piece by piece. He didn’t pay attention to anything or anyone around him. When he made it a hall that led outside, he looked behind him and saw Draco was helping Theo get a younger year out from underneath rubble. Blaise took this opportunity to run. He was better than his mother, but even he knew it was insane to stay.

  


* * *

 

 

**May 2**

 

Theo pointed the second year into the direction of the infirmary. He knew he couldn’t send the little Ravenclaw to safety because the child was already scared of him enough.

 

Theo looked around. “He’s gone.”

 

Draco nodded. “Doesn’t surprise me. We’ve got a floor left and then you can get to Daphne.”

 

Theo nodded and the two moved on. “What if this doesn’t end well?”

 

“What does that mean?” Draco asked. “I feel like either way we are fucked. If Potter wins, then we are just going to be scum and spat on in the streets. If uh...Riddle wins, then we are stuck in hell.”

 

Theo paused. “Do you hear that? Do you feel that?”

 

The ground seemed to rumble again. “I did that time,” Draco agreed. I think everyone is going outside.”

 

“Let’s go.”

  


* * *

 

 

**May 2**

 

Draco had never wanted to be a muggle as much as he had in that moment. The sight of Potter’s body drove chills through his body. He turned to Theo. “You need to get out of here,” Draco whispered. “Go to Daphne. Try and get people out of Hogsmeade.”

 

“Even with all of this going on, my father should still be home,” Theo replied. “We’ll be there. Please take care of yourself, Draco.”

 

Draco hugged his long time friend. “As long as you do the same. Get out of here.”

 

Draco watched his friend run back into the castle to help their Slytherin family. Draco scooted through the crowd to see better. He saw the Weasleys along with Granger, McGonagall, Longbottom, and Lovegood down in the front.

 

The death eaters split and Voldemort walked down the center with Nagini slithering around him. Draco gulped. He had feared this moment for so long. “Today has been one 17 years in the making. You have all waited and hoped that I would never return. Alas, now here I am. I see no more reason to fight. I give you all the opportunity to join us.”

 

Draco noticed his parents standing in the very front. This was his opportunity. He limped forward towards his mother. She met him half way and guided him to his father. “I was so worried about you,” she whispered.

 

The Malfoys stood by each other, but Draco was zoned out from everything. He could see Longbottom step forward. He watched the snake slither forward, but he couldn’t hear a word. He watched the snake die.

 

Draco watched Hagrid drop Potter’s body on what must’ve been Voldemort’s command. Voldemort pointed his wand at Potter and cast a few spells before turning back to the others. He seemed to focus on the front group and levitated Potter’s body to them. So this was the end.

  


* * *

 

 

**May 2**

 

Hermione watched her best friend’s body drop in front of her. She could feel her muscles weaken. “It’s time to end all our fighting. Your messiah is out of commission. Though I am not naturally honest, I am so by chance.”

 

Her head snapped up at Voldemort’s words. “These times have defined who is your family; they are the ones by your side who have not flinched,” She could feel his red eyes on her. No, she thought. No it couldn’t be. She wanted to vomit at her audacious thought.

 

“I am calling a ceasefire for the next week,” the group of death eaters grumbled until their master held up his hand to finish speaking. “What is the point of running our world when there's no one to have control over? One week and perhaps we shall all negotiate.”

 

Voldemort seemed to smile towards Hermione before apparating away with all the other death eaters. Hermione couldn’t breathe as the Weasleys gathered around Harry’s body.

 

“We need to go, Hermione,” Neville said. He helped her towards the others. “The Order is going to the Burrow.”

 

Hermione only nodded and allowed Neville to take care of her. She couldn’t handle this right now. The landed in the front yard of the Burrow. Hermione took a step forward but Neville stopped her.

 

“What’s wrong, Hermione?” He asked.

 

“You’re my oldest friend, even more so than Harry and Ron,” she whispered. Neville nodded. “You know who’s words freaked me out. I’m going to tell you things no one else here knows. On December 31, 1980, my parents were murdered. Everyone, even me for a bit, believed them to be killed by a muggle serial spree killer. My parents weren’t the only ones who died that night. It wasn’t until the summer going into fifth year I figured out it must’ve been death eaters because burned onto the wood of my childhood bedroom is the their symbol. My aunt and uncle raised me, and next door to us was a middle aged man named Thomas Marvel.”

 

“Your parents are dead? You always said they were dentists, and they respond to Mr. and Mrs. Granger,” Neville was shocked.

 

“My aunt and uncle are dentists, and they respond to Mr. and Mrs. Granger because that’s who they are. My uncle and Dad were brothers,” she explained. “Anyway, my aunt and uncle had no children of their own, and even after gaining guardianship of me, and they did love me very much, they still had their own life as well respected dentists. Thomas became my best friend and pretty much my family. I seemed to be in his care for three fourths of a year. It was him who gifted me copies of my cherished muggle books and this bracelet,” She shook her right wrist.

 

“One of the days he was watching me was my eighth birthday. He and I were talking and he mentioned this quote, ‘ _When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching—they are your family_ ’. That quote was everything to us because as I got older my aunt and uncle seemed to be gone more and I was with him more. He is...no was my family. I saw him the day I obliviated my aunt and uncle. I was going to obliviated him too but he said he was moving away. I left him with his memories of me. I couldn’t destroy the family I had.”

 

“You know who said something like that,” Neville realized.

 

Hermione nodded. “And Tom is short for Thomas, and Marvel is an uncommon synonym for Riddle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the use of google translate:  
> agápi (Greek)- love


	11. This is Gospel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom talks with Leopold. Tom explains a few things to Hermione. The eight get together and draw their wands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter  
> Chapter Warning: Fighting (with wands)  
> Chapter Lyric: "This is for the fallen ones Locked away in permanent slumber Assembling their philosophies From pieces of broken memories. Oh, this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart. The gnashing teeth and criminal tongues conspire against the odds, But they haven't seen the best of us yet"

Tom sat down at his desk staring at a piece of parchment. Someone knocked at the door. “Enter,” he called. His ever faithful house elf Klepper walked in with the feeble Leopold Nott. “My friend, I need your assistance. I hope your son does not mind your absence.”

 

Klepper helped Leopold sit down. “Theodore isn’t home. He’s off at our house on the Welsh coast, close to Holyhead.”

 

“That quick to escape this labyrinth issue?”

 

“He is celebrating with his wife I believe. At least that is what Finley has eluded to the two doing.”

 

Tom’s eyebrows rose. “I wasn’t aware you had married him off. I didn’t expect that.”

 

Leopold chuckled. “I didn’t. The boy had a secret wedding. I only found out a couple of months ago when I ventured into my study to discover a person sticking off of Theodore’s on the family tapestry. So I did what I do best and investigated. It was a legal marriage—a full bonding in fact. He’s never getting out of it.”

 

“And you are all right with this?”

 

Leopold nodded. “The girl isn’t after his title or money. Theodore has been in love with her for years now. She is his Calla. Enough about my son. What is it you called me here for?”

 

“Besides me, you are the only living person who knows about my prophetic dealings with Cassandra Vablatsky,” Tom said. “Since I know the whereabouts of all the included, I have came to the idea of inviting them over to learn about their perspectives. I would like you present, but only if you think this is a good idea.”

 

“It amazes me you still even want my opinion,” Leopold quipped. “How did you come to this idea?”

 

“I want these children on my side, and I know force won’t get them here. My plan is to write a brief note that is actually a port key.”

 

“Is the port key necessary?” 

 

“I want them here.”

 

Leopold coughed loudly. Tom yelled for Klepper to bring in tea. Leopold reluctantly accepted the tea. “My son is involved in this.”

 

Tom nodded. “According to the letters, he, Miss Granger, and Mr. Malfoy are the top 3. I won’t harm your son.”

 

“I never said you would.”

 

“You had that look. Should I wait until your son is back to send the letters?”

 

Leopold shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. The girl is on your list. Personally I would send it now.”

 

This fact intrigued Tom. “Greengrass girl then because Parkinsons just do not fit the secret wedding type. Lyle always was a nuisance however. Why her?”

 

“He’s always been intrigued by her since they were six. They met at her first Christmas party at the Malfoys. He was completely appalled by her servile attitude and the way she was treated by her father,” Leopold explained while taking a sip of tea. “He could see the fire in her eyes though, and it gave him hope that she could be magnificent. Something happened at Hogwarts that must’ve triggered it.”

 

“Are you privy to such information?”

 

“An engagement contract between the Goyle and Greengrass families filed June 29. They got married the 30th by Blaise Zabini. He holds the Selwyn seat after his grandfather’s passing some time ago.”

 

Tom snickered. “So she must’ve gotten news of the engagement, told your son, he popped the question, and got someone to marry them. To be young again.” Tom notice the smirk fall from his friend’s face. “What is it?”

 

“I’m going to die.”

 

“It’s just a cough.”

 

Leopold shook his head. “I can feel it, Tom.” He never called him Tom anymore. Leopold must’ve been serious. “I’m going to die soon and that’s why I’m here. I had to know you wouldn’t hurt my family.”

 

“You think I would?” Tom asked at annoyed at his follower’s distrust.

 

“I know you won’t stop until you achieve what you want, no matter who is in your way,” Leopold answered honestly. “My son and his wife are two of eight who could lead to your destruction. You just killed the Potter boy for the same reason.”

 

“He’s in a coma,” Tom corrected. “The extra spells were to knock him out. No idea when he’ll wake up. The horcrux is out of him and that’s what matters.”

 

Leopold was dumbfounded. “I think you’ve gone crazy.”

 

“I haven’t I can assure you. I couldn’t kill the boy. He needed to be spared; otherwise, fate would have killed me. Sparing children gets you rewards.”

 

“You’re insane.”

 

“I’m not. I promise your son and daughter-in-law will have no harm come to them by my hand, and you won’t die.”

 

Leopold shook his head. “I’ll be dead by Monday. I can feel it. I want to stay to see my son grow into a good man and raise a family but I’m weak and miss my love. He’s going to do great things though.”

 

“He is your son after all,” Tom complimented. “I’ve heard how well his charm work is, just like yours.”

 

“Exactly,” Leopold agreed. “It’s best that’s not forgotten. He will do anything to make sure his family and friends are okay. He will know how to destroy before you realize how you could fall.”

 

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Why tell me this? That’s dangerous information that leads to death most times.”

 

Leopold coughed and took a sip of tea. He stood and grabbed his cane. “Because he may be my son, but he is every bit Calla. You and I both know how dangerous she could be. She put her family first, friends second, and ties under that. No one crossed her path because you’d be done before you realized it. Theodore is the same way. He is her son more than anything else. He will destroy you if you harm what he loves.”

 

* * *

Leopold came back two days later. He found Tom reading in his office. Tom glanced up at this comrade. “Didn’t we just have a discussion the other day?”

 

Leopold fell into a chair. “You are summoning them for tomorrow?”

 

“That is what I told you the other day,” Tom didn’t look up from his book. “Come to tell me that your son already has a plot to defeat me?”

 

Leopold shook his head, but Tom paid it no notice. “No. Though some things have changed with them. Lives are at risk,” Tom looked up. His eyes begged for more information, but Leopold gave him none. “I came to inform you of the others. It’s taken me time to consider doing this because it is an advantage for you but a betrayal to my son and his friends.”

 

“Why tell me then? I know how much your son means to you.”

 

“I’m making the unwise decision of putting the fate of my family in your hands, my Lord. I’m trusting you to remember everything I have done for you and protect them.”

 

Leopold watched Tom sink into his chair in thought. The room was dead silent for a moment. Leopold thought about recanting his offer, but he knew of no other way to protect his family after he was gone. 

 

Tom nodded. “Go ahead. I’ve done some research already.”

 

“What do you know about Marcus Flint?”

 

“He was the first. Born in ‘74 or ‘75 to Cassius Flint and his wife Portia Rowle. He has two older brothers who have joined us. He plays Quidditch for Puddlemere United.”

 

“Cassius Flint has been dead for ten years now. He left the Flint name, one property, two houses elves,  and half the family fortune to Marcus.”

 

“What?” Tom gasped. It was clear to Leopold that Tom was not aware of this. “That’ll teach me not to let Thorfinn research his own goddamn nephew.”

 

Leopold snorted. “That’s your whole problem. Marcus hasn’t been in contact with his mother, uncle, or brothers since his father died. The day of Cassius’s funeral, Portia kicked him out directly after the will reading. Marcus was made an independent legal,” Leopold shifted. “Marcus is the only living Flint by blood.”

 

“But…”

 

“Julius and Brutus are,” Leopold cringed. “Rowles through and through. Cassius must’ve found out before his death. Marcus also has a drinking problem. You can find him Tuesday nights from 8:13 pm to 11:37 pm on the third stool from the right at Fadhbanna. His problem is trying to be himself and keep the Flint name in good graces. He is a loner.”

 

“I don’t know much about Adrian Pucey,” Tom admitted. “He’s one not too much could be dug up on him without raising an eyebrow.”

 

Leopold slouched over in his chair. “He just isn’t one with much information out there. Adrian Pucey is an open book. He played Quidditch in Hogwarts and never had a single foul against him. He’s a trauma healer at St. Mungo’s now. He has a problem with emotions though. Some say he has no feelings at all. He does have a fondness for strawberry eclairs. Not much else can be found about him. Whatever his past was, it can’t be dug up except the merest basics. 

 

“I’ll skip Miss Granger and my son. Blaise Zabini is shallow and narcissistic like his mother. He is always trying to be better than her. He is only concerned with himself no matter how much he says he cares for others. The only other person who brings fire out of him is his mother. He wants to be better than her, even if he is like her. Daphne lived in an abusive household.”

 

“That’s not a surprise with Lyle Greengrass as her father,” Tom scoffed. 

 

“She has a little sister too. Daphne doesn’t speak much. She reminds me of a combination between Calla and Narcissa.”

 

Tom chuckled. “Don’t underestimate her then no matter how dainty and weak she looks.”

 

“Pansy Parkinson believes she isn’t pretty enough and will put others down to lift herself up. She does care for her friends though. She had the reputation of getting around the past two or so years. Something happened mid sixth year that the reputation ceased. Finally, Draco Malfoy believes he doesn’t have a choice. He only ever sees option A. He rarely sleeps at night too.”

 

“They all sound screwed up,” Tom admitted. “And I’m not about to make their life any easier. It’s time to see what they are truly made of.” 

 

* * *

Tom sat at the table waiting. It had been one week since the battle at Hogwarts. He had sent his notes out just hours before, and now he waited. He had sent a particular note out before the rest because a special conversation was needed. “Klepper, could you please bring in tea. Our first guest should be here very soon.”

 

The house elf nodded and vanished. Seconds later, Tom heard a pop. “That was awfully quick, Klepper,” He looked up when he heard another pop. “Thank you for tea, Klepper. The others will be appearing in the atrium. Once all seven arrive, please escort them here. As for you Miss Granger, please sit down.”

 

Klepper closed the door behind him. Tom watched Hermione Granger gently sit down. “How are you?” He asked her. 

 

“You just treated that house elf rather nicely,” she ignored his perfunctory question. “People like you don’t treat house elves nicely. Also you don’t look right. Your look confirms all I need, except the eyes.”

 

Tom smiled. Snake face was gone, and the face Hermione was used to was a gracing presence. This time, however, his eyes were red instead of brown. 

 

“I’ll answer your statements backwards. My eyes were always red, even when you made me watch those weird muggle space war movies. I had to wear colored contacts. Some things are just beyond repair. The snake face is gone. It was a glamour to keep certain theories a float. Yes I am your friend and neighbor. When did you get the idea?”

 

“Your little speech with your quotes tipped me off. All the past clues made sense,” She poured herself a cup of tea. “When I got your note, I knew I needed to come. I got my cover before I even read it.”

 

“I can only imagine how angry all of the Order will be if they find out you were here, let alone our rooted history. So who did you convince to cover for you?”

 

“Neville Longbottom.”

 

Tom nodded. “You always spoke the fondest of him. He is family then. The battle proved he does not flinch.”

 

She ignored his statement. “You didn’t answer about the house elf.”

 

“Klepper came into my ownership when he was about five years old. His former master was very cruel to him and I killed him. Well I got him to free Klepper first and then I killed him. He was a mole to begin with. I gave Klepper the choice of being free because what was I to do with an elf. Then I discovered Klepper cannot speak. It is actually easier for him to be in servitude for communication purposes,” Tom explained. “I treat him nicely, don’t worry. I’ve heard of your S.P.E.W.”

 

Hermione moves on to the next topic. “Harry’s not dead.”

 

“But the horcrux in him is,” Tom answered. 

 

“But we destroyed all of them. You shouldn’t be alive anymore,” Hermione sighed. “None of this makes sense. It doesn’t match up with the information Dumbledore passed onto us.”

 

Tom took a sip of tea and smiled. “You’re still him,” Hermione murmured. “You drink tea like him; you smile like him. You talk like him. You to talk to me like him. It scares me. He was my family. He was all I really had.”

 

“Because I am him. Even with my name, I technically never lied to you. Make the connections. I want to see how well you’ve paid attention.”

 

“Tom is a short version of Thomas, and marvel is a synonym for riddle. You said your father was murdered by a crazy man. That can be answered with the blame of your uncle. You went to boarding school in Scotland. You had family roots in Ireland.” Tom nodded. “It’s still hard to believe. How did you pull it all off?”

 

Tom grinned. “Magic. I suppose you want a full story,” Hermione nodded eagerly. “And you will get one once the others arrive. Anymore questions?”

 

Hermione shook her head. “Not at the moment. I know I’ll probably have more. I’m still in shock.”

 

Tom chuckled, which seemed to freak Hermione out even more. “Just wait until I’m done with my tale. Then you’ll be unable to speak at all.”

 

* * *

Tom stared at the people sitting down with him. Hermione, Theodore, Daphne, and Adrian sat to his left with Draco, Marcus, Pansy and Blaise adjacent from them. All were staring at Hermione, who was staring at her tea. “I think we shall begin. I bet your top three questions are what are you doing here, why do I look like this, and why is Hermione Granger here. Am I wrong?” 

 

Nobody answered. 

 

“Let me tell you a story,” His eyes grazed everyone sitting at the table. “About 30 to 35 years ago, a seer came to visit me, and although I neither like nor trust divination, I let her in. She told me that eight souls not yet born could make or break my future because of the amount of ambivalence. There was one in particular that would lead the way. Ten years later I received a letter from her announcing the birth of the first.”

 

His eyes landed on Marcus. He shifted his gaze to Adrian. “Three years later the second arrived. Two years after that I couldn’t get out of bed. The birth of the third child was so big in my timeline I was in pain. I discovered the child was born to muggles and my search for her began. Within the next nine months, the final five letters came and cited importance of other ambivalent children. By December of that year with the help of my most trusted colleagues, the muggleborn girl was located. We went on the eve of 1981 to visit the family only to discover some of my followers planned their own raid on the village. We apparated quickly to the house where we heard screaming inside. Entering, we found the child’s father dead. Then we heard it: the cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange.

 

“I sent one colleague up to knock her out. Unfortunately the mother was also dead but the baby was alive, sound asleep in fact. I had a choice in that moment and I let her live. Her aunt and uncle came to get her and that was that. Ten months later to the day, I was defeated by Harry Potter. I was sure that I was gone for a while, but then I woke up four days later in house. The seer who had been following my journey was taking care of me in a house next to this girl I had saved. Turns out part of my soul has been put back together, but it was very fragile. I watched this girl grow up, became her family, and I realized why she was still special and why I couldn’t bring myself to kill her that night even though I had my wand pointed at her. The love of her mother saved her that night for the most part.”

 

Hermione looked pale. “Klepper, Hermione is in need of a bucket.” The House elf dropped one right next to her. She threw up a second later. Klepper brought her a towel and another cup of tea once she was done. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

 

“I figured it out a couple years ago. I just didn’t know all of that,” she answered. Her voice was hoarse. 

 

“The eight of you are here because you are the eight. You all have your battles and I’m offering you each something that will aide you.”

 

“He talked to you,” Theodore interrupted. “That damn man was in no condition to leave the house or tell you.”

 

Tom shrugged. At puns of a small pop, he glanced to the spot his house elf previously occupied. That was not a good sign. “I need to offer my congratulations, Theodore.”

 

“About what?” He asked wearily. 

 

Daphne gripped his hand. “Your new family.”

 

“How did you know?” Daphne demanded. Her husband tried to quiet her down. “Only Theo, Pansy, Blaise, and Draco knew of our marriage. How did you find out?”

 

“Leopold told me.”

 

“Father knows!” Theodore exclaimed. “How did he find out?”

 

“He does. He is quite proud of your choice. Couldn’t be happier I’d say. He found out from your family tapestry, which is why my gift to you is protection.”

 

The couple’s eyes widened. “Theo…” 

 

Daphne didn’t finish her sentence. With a blast of blue light, she was pinned against a wall gasping. In an instant, Theo, Hermione, and Adrian has their wands out. Marcus followed seconds after. Pansy and Draco rushed to Daphne’s side. Blaise just sat there. Tom stood as Lyle Greengrass entered the room. 

 

“You bitch,” he snarled. “You whore. Do you know what you’ve cost our family? I find you a good family and you choose this piece of lowly shit. You’ve costed me 1000 galleon dowry. Do you know how worse it was to invite the Goyle family into our home to finalize the deal only discover  _ his _ name coming off of yours. And don’t get me started about the other one.”

 

Daphne gasped. “I’m going to kill you,” Lyle shouted. 

 

“Lyle, get out of my house,” Tom ordered. 

 

“You stay out of this,” he barked. Daphne screamed at the flick of his wand. “Dark Lord be damned. This is between me and her.”

 

“Don’t you dare hurt her, Lyle,” Theo said in a low voice. “Let her go and this will end.”

 

“This will end when you and your problem are gone. You have no room to threaten me.”

 

Theo’s face darkened. Tom watched Hermione slowly lower her wand as she watched Theo tense. Adrian did too. Marcus kept his wand up as he moved closer towards Tom and Hermione until he knew he was safe. This is what Leopold was talking about. Theodore was dangerous Tom realized. 

 

“And you have no room to threaten her,” Theo growled. “I’m giving you one more chance. No one hurts my family. Blood be damned.”

 

Lyle clearly didn’t believe his son-in-law and flicked his wand at his daughter, who screamed again and twitched. The sight sickened Tom. Quickly he grabbed his wand and cast  _ expelliarmus _ . Daphne fell into Pansy and Draco’s arms, gasping for air. Theo took this moment to strike his father-in-law. 

 

Adrian rushed to Daphne’s side. “Let me look at you, Daphne. I’m a healer.”

 

Daphne nodded and let Adrian do his thing. Her eyes drifted over to see her husband firing hexes at her father. “Nobody hurts my family without paying,” Theo said surely. “You’re going to pay, Lyle.”

 

“I’ve paid enough with my line being tainted by your pathetic blood.” In an instant Tom watched as Lyle Greengrass screamed and squirmed on the floor. Glancing at the Nott boy’s face, he saw no sign of empathy, only malice and rage. He wasn’t smiling or frowning—just staring. A flick of his wand and Tom heard something crack and a louder scream from Lyle. 

 

“Theo,” Daphne moaned from the floor. Adrian held her up. “Stop, Theo. He’s still my father.”

 

Tom watched the boy stop at once. It was very clear how much he loved this girl. Lyle was still screaming after Theo had let him go. His power impressed Tom. 

 

Theo stepped closer to his father-in-law. “I warned you,” he said quietly, but Tom still heard. “Next time, I will kill you without any hesitation.”

 

Theo met Tom’s stare after he dropped Lyle. Tom saw the fire dancing in his amber eyes. He’d witnessed it before. Just like Harry Potter, Theodore Nott had his mother’s eyes. Leopold was right; his son was not one to mess with. “I can assist you however is needed.”

 

“She needs rest,” Adrian piped up. “She’s in no condition to travel.”

 

“Klepper will guide you to a room,” Tom said. Adrian picked her up and followed Klepper out of the drawing room. Pansy followed them quickly. 

 

“Somebody needs to get Astoria,” Theo requested. 

 

“I’ll go,” Draco volunteered. “What do I tell her?”

 

“Tell her the willow tree fell. She’ll understand. She might also get the idea when you are dragging her unconscious father in too. Marcus, can you go with him and do that part?”

 

Marcus nodded. “Take the floo,” Tom suggested. He glanced over to see Blaise stepping over Lyle, trying to get out quietly. “Blaise, why don’t you help them get Lyle to the floo.”

 

Blaise slightly nodded. His reluctance was obvious. Then it was only Theo, Hermione, and Tom left. “I...I need to go. Neville probably can’t cover for me for much longer.”

 

“You’ll always have a home here, Hermione,” Tom smiled when he saw she didn’t flinch. 

 

“Do you need anything, Theodore?” She asked. “I have a feeling I may be back.”

 

Theo shook his head. “Just take care of yourself, Hermione. Thank you for the quick reaction earlier.”

 

Hermione nodded and walked out. “Does father know about the baby?” Theo asked as soon as she was out of the room. Tom nodded. “We didn’t mean for it to happen, especially at this time.”

 

“How far along is she?”

 

“Baby’s due end of December. We found out the day before the fight,” He was quiet for a moment. “He asked for our protection, didn’t he? That’s why he told you about them.”

 

“Leopold believes he’s going to be dead by Monday. He wanted insurance,” Tom explained. 

 

“I don’t trust you,” Theo states bluntly. “But right now the life of my wife and child are in your hands. I’m at your feet.”

 

“I know. They won’t be hurt. There is something about love that cannot be defeated. I also know that if they get hurt on my watch you won’t trust me.”

 

“We’re all pawns to you,” Theo said. “Just pillars to your momentous tower of power. You won’t care if we drop dead eventually.”

 

Tom shrugged. “Let’s go check on your love and save this for another time.”


	12. Just One Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Draco retrieve Astoria...and her neighbor. Hermione consults Harry. Pansy and Adrian watch over Daphne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter  
> Chapter Warning: Girls throwing objects at guys because they are idiots  
> Chapter Lyric: "If heaven's grief brings hell's reign Then I'll trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday"

Draco and Marcus stumbled out of the floo and into the Greengrass household. Astoria was sitting on the couch reading. Her head bounced up at the sound of the floo. She gasped at the sight of her father. “I take it the willow tree has fallen?”

 

Marcus nodded. “Theo said you would know what that meant.”

 

She put her book down. Astoria beckoned the boys to follow. “Mother isn’t home right now. My grandmother in Amsterdam is ill, so mother went to be with her. You can put father in the fourth room on the right,” Astoria turned around to see Marcus and Draco struggling to get her father up the stairs. She rolled her eyes.

 

“Do you mind not being sassy at this minute,” Draco snapped. “Today hasn’t been a good day and your father isn’t the lightest person in the world.”

 

Astoria huffed and grabbed her father’s ankle. “Let’s go boys. We have things to get done,” Once reaching the landing, she led them to the right. “We’ll place him at his desk with a glass of firewhisky in his hand and the bottle nearby. Whenever he wakes up, he’ll go straight to bed to take a nap. It’ll be about seventy-eight minutes after that he will wake up and remember what happened.”

 

Marcus frowned. “It sounds like you’ve done this before.”

 

“It was Daphne who taught me this,” Astoria answered through gritted teeth. She had ran into the table next to her father’s office, knocking a vase over. She dropped her father’s feet to open the door. Marcus and Draco dragged him in and dumped him in the chair. “He keeps the firewhisky in the bottom left drawer.”

 

Astoria started towards the door. “Where are you going?” Draco asked.

 

“To grab my bag and a few other things,” She heard him follow her. “We’ve been planning this for a while. When Daphne discovered she was pregnant, it was just a matter of time. I had everything packed that would be unnoticed.”

 

“Daphne’s pregnant!” Draco gasped.

 

Astoria glanced back at the blond and rolled her eyes. “Why else would my father put up such a fight like this? If it were just about marrying Theo then she would’ve only been burned off the tree. But to actually conceive his heir would be seen as a betrayal that warranted death.”

 

Draco watched as Astoria grabbed suitcases from under her bed and in the closet. He watched her throw more clothes and items into bags. “You guys have been really prepared,” Draco murmured.

 

“Is she okay?”

 

Draco’s head snapped up and out of his trance. “What?”

 

“Daphne. Is she okay?” Astoria repeated.

 

“I think so. She’s being looked at by a healer.”

 

“What?” Astoria shrieked. She grabbed the nearest thing to her and threw it at Draco. Luckily for him it was only a hairbrush. “Why are you only telling me now that my sister could be hurt? That my niece or nephew could be hurt? Do you know how Theo is coping with this?”

 

Draco shrugged. “Not sure. He was very pissed though.”

 

“Of course he was! You men are idiots except for him,” Astoria grumbled before sighing heavily.  “Yesterday I was playing the piano and dancing for the first time years. Now I am heading into a war zone. What I would give for just one more yesterday. Do me a favor and grab those books in the window.”

 

Draco begrudgingly did as he was told. He glanced out the window and to the lavish house next door. “Who lives next to you guys, Tori?”

 

“Longbottoms,” she answered. “The house isn’t what you’d expect. Augusta has pretentious tastes according to my mother. It’s hypocritical.”

 

Draco nodded and gathered the books. He glanced out the window one last time to see Neville Longbottom apparate into his yard holding a beaten and bloody Hermione Granger.

 

Draco dropped the books onto Astoria’s bed. “Tori, get everything together and meet us downstairs. I need Marcus.”

 

Draco ran down the hallway as quickly as he could. Marcus was exiting the office when Draco ran straight into his chest. Draco wheezed, “Granger...next door...with Longbottom...bloody...not good.”

 

Marcus’s eyes bugged out of his head. They saw and heard what that girl meant to the Dark Lord. They needed to get her now. Marcus grabbed Draco’s arm and rushed them towards the Longbottoms.

 

They found Neville dragging Hermione out of the grass. He must’ve saw them approaching because in an instant his wand was pointed at them. “Stop!”

 

“Easy Longbottom,” Draco took smaller steps towards the wizard with his hands up. “We saw you out of the Greengrass’s windows. What happened to Granger?”

 

Neville looked at the two hesitantly. Marcus spoke up, “We were there earlier,” Draco shot the man a dirty look. “We know her past, Longbottom. We all know  _ someone  _ isn’t going to be happy with this. She’d be safer there.”

 

They dared not speak his name. Neville sighed. He glanced towards the house. “I have a feeling she’d be safer there more than here. How do we get there? I plan to go with.”

 

Marcus slung Hermione’s arm over his shoulder while Neville took the other. “We’ll use the Greengrass’s floo since we need Astoria,” Draco explained. “Are you sure you want to come, Longbottom?”

 

Neville nodded. “I don’t think I can leave her behind after everything.”

  
  


* * *

Hermione stumbled out of the floo and into the Weasley’s living room. She silently reflected on the past hour as she walked through the Burrow, trying to find anyone. She got what she expected: answers; Hermione also got an unexpected feeling: ambivalence.

 

Finding no one on the ground floor, she climbed the stairs to check on her unconscious best friend. Hermione found him still passed out. She sighed and slouched in the chair next to his bed.

 

Hermione had always felt an undying loyalty to her neighbor. He was the one who showed up to her recitals and picked her up when she was sick. When her aunt and uncle were in the Congo helping kids, it was Thomas who watched her and had to deal with the time she got in trouble for a boy breaking his arm after pulling her hair. Perhaps Tom Riddle had been planning for this all along. Now that she knew the truth, she didn’t know what to do. Did she stay loyal to the side she always had or did she trust the man who she knew had cared for her all her life but was the potential villain?

 

“I’m so confused, Harry,” Hermione weeped. “This problem can’t be solved by logic, and we both know I’m rather rubbish with feelings.”

 

Her friend, of course, didn’t reply or move. “It feels like just yesterday you, me, and Ron were being semi normal kids. I’d give my tomorrows for that again.”

 

She recognized the sound of Ron’s footsteps. She continued to talk to Harry as she heard him open the door. She was about to turn around to greet him when she felt the tip of his wand against her neck. Her small smile fell off her face. “You’re a traitorous bitch,” he seethed.

 

“Ron,” she said quietly, “You need to know why I went.”

 

“I know why, and to think he called you his sister in every way but blood.”

 

She could feel the tears slide down her cheek. “Ron…”

 

“ _ Stupefy _ .”

  
  


* * *

Neville watched Marcus Flint lead Astoria into the floo. He could feel Draco staring at him. “Are you sure you don’t need help with her, Longbottom?”

 

Neville shook his head. “I let her down. I let her get hurt.” His eyes squeezed shut when he remembered opening the door to see Ron hexing her and hitting her. “I promised I’d cover for her but he found the letter. I thought I had him off her trail.”

 

“Why would you protect her, knowing full well that she was going to see the Dark Lord?” Neville could tell that confused Draco the most.

 

“We need to leave,” Astoria urged. “He’ll be up soon.”

 

“She was my first friend. She is my best friend. Even with being blood traitors, the Weasleys still have their prejudices just like the lot of you. Growing up, everyone believed me to be a squib until I received my Hogwarts letter, and then my gran held me to the same standard as my dad,” Neville explained. “Hermione and I related to being the outsiders. I’d always have her back, even if she trusted Ron and Harry more. She’s my family.”

 

The three Slytherins were quiet. “That was a touching sentiment, Neville. Truly it was, but it’s time to go so my father doesn’t throw you out a window like your uncle did many a times. Where do we floo to?”

 

“He told us to floo to Downing Street. There was an emphasis on the Dow,” Marcus recalled.

 

“That’s where the muggle prime minister lives,” Neville informed them. “He must be using the name to not fully disclose his location.”

 

Astoria grabbed one of her suitcases and a handful of floo powder. “Downing Street!”

 

Marcus went after her followed by Neville with Hermione in his arms and then Draco. Sitting in front of the floo was a late-middle aged man Neville had never seen before reading the Daily Prophet. “Miss Greengrass is upstairs on the second floor in the third door on the right of the right side. Pucey said she’s doing well, just a little stressed out.”

 

Astoria rushed off with Draco and Marcus. The man looked up at last. Neville noted the man’s red eyes. So this is who Hermione grew up with, minus the red eyes, Neville thought. “Mr. Longbottom, why don’t you follow me upstairs with dear Hermione.”

 

Neville followed without a word. He knew talking would get him nowhere. He followed Voldemort to a bedroom across from where he saw a group of people gathered around a bed. That must’ve been Daphne Greengrass’s room. The room was simple, he noted, just like the rest of the house. Voldemort pulled the covers back for Neville to lay her down, which he did gently.

 

“Who did this?” Voldemort asked quietly.

 

“If I tell you, then it’ll be your goal to end that person painfully and soon,” Neville answered.

 

“Are you protecting whoever did this?” He snapped. “I thought you two are friends.”

 

“We are. If you truly know Hermione, then you would know that she doesn’t want who did this to her to be harmed unless it is at her hand,” Neville pulled the covers over Hermione.

 

“Was it because of me?”

 

Neville slightly nodded while he shrugged. “I did my best covering for her. The letter was found and I led them on a goose chase. None of them would’ve believed that she just needed answers to a personal issue. Her just opening the letter was seen as a betrayal.”

 

Voldemort sighed. “And you saving her must be seen as one,” Neville nodded. “You can stay here. I’ll have Klepper get the room next door ready.”

 

Neville saw Voldemort walk towards the door. “Call me Tom,” he said suddenly. “I can see it in your eyes that you still call me Voldemort. Just call me Tom.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


By the time they got to the room, Daphne was unconscious in Adrian’s arms. He gently laid her down on the bed. He heard Pansy softly shut the door behind them. “Should she be unconscious?” He could hear the worry in her voice.

 

“She’ll be fine,” Adrian reassured her. “I just need to do a closer examination, and her being unconscious will help.”

 

Pansy nodded and pulled a chair closer to her best friend. Adrian pulled out his wand and murmured a spell. They sat in silence waiting for the spell to conclude. Adrian hated silence. “I remember in school you two weren’t good friends, when I was there at least.”

 

“It was a quarter of the way through fifth year,” Pansy answered quietly. “I remember finding her late one night in the common room curled next to the fire. The fire illuminated the bruises on her face. We didn’t say anything to each other. She just cried in my arms. I held her. Most always see Daphne as a weak girl because that’s all she could be, but she is so much more. It was around three in the morning when Theo stumbled through the entrance with a tub of cream and his hand bandaged up. By then Daphne was asleep but I was still awake. He and I didn’t share words but I understood. Her father had a close relationship with the Goyles and Greg was technically courting her. Theo wouldn’t ever harm Daphne. We never spoke of that night but she needed a friend who was I girl. Tracey hated us. Millicent had her own issues and was best friends with Tracey. She finally had someone to go to when she couldn’t go straight for Theo.”

 

Adrian stared at the paper in front of him while listening to Pansy. “That’s awful.”

 

“Daphne will get her revenge someday. She’s not one to mess with.”

 

“I wouldn’t want to mess with a pregnant woman either. I remember when one of the mediwitches was pregnant. You did not get in her way,” Adrian chuckled at the memory.

 

Pansy was silent. Finally she spoke. “You can’t be serious. Is this some sick bit of unnecessary humor? This is unnecessary shit, Adrian.”

 

“He’s not joking,” The two turned around to see Theo standing in the doorway next to their host. “We found out a week ago ourselves. Believe me when we thought it was a sick, unneeded gift from fate. I mean sure we love each other and would love any children we have, but we’re in the middle of a war. I just found out my father sold us out in order to guarantee us protection. I don’t just have a wife, whom I know can take care of herself when need be, to look after; I have a pregnant one.”

 

Pansy rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Even in war men can’t keep it in their pants.”

 

Theo stuck his tongue out at the girl. Adrian glanced between the two. “All  _ is _ fair in love and war.” Pansy threw her shoe at him for that.   
  


 

* * *

 

Adrian and Pansy left the room when Draco, Marcus, and Astoria showed up. Draco and Marcus popped in before leaving to let the family be. They had traveled up the stairs to the next floor when Pansy stopped in her tracks. Adrian turned around to see why she had stopped.

 

“You wanna know what I was doing yesterday?” She didn’t wait for his reply. “I was strolling through the gardens at home with my father. My mother was inside mourning over my brother, who was foolish enough to ignore the rule of Parkinson neutrality, and had joined the death eaters because his friends had and died in a raid a few weeks ago. It was the first time in years my father and I had true time together and not just small moments of inside looks. He did this trick he used to do when I was little. He picked a rose and a daisy, said a little spell, which he still refuses to tell me, and created this crown made out of roses and daisies.

 

“When I was little he would always call me the queen of flowers. I would always ask him after he said that and created the crown why it wasn’t made out of pansies. He replied every time, ‘My flower, I find pansies to be the most hideous things on this planet. You are the only Pansy I find beautiful and ever will. You bring the wretched flower a beauty it has never had before.’ He said that to me yesterday for the first time in a long time,” Pansy’s vision began to blur as tears welled up in her eyes. “I would trade every tomorrow for that yesterday again.”

 

Adrian didn’t know what to do. He hasn’t had a girl cry in front of him for a long time. He thought back to what he had seen others do. Gently, he patted Pansy on the back. “It’ll be okay,” he soothed. “Things might be scary now but it’ll all straighten out. This won’t last much longer.”

 

Pansy wipes her eyes and shook her head. “You’re a fool if you believe that, Pucey. This is only the beginning.”


	13. I Just Wanna Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaise and his mom talk. Hermione and Neville talk. Theo and Daphne talk. Nobody runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter  
> Chapter Warning: None bad. Theo x Daphne fluff at the end  
> Chapter Lyric: "I just wanna run, hide it away Run because they're chasing me down I just wanna run, throw it away Run before they're finding me out I just wanna run"

Blaise tumbled out of the floo and into his no longer immaculate living room. “Honestly, figlio, I know apparating in distress can cause you to splinch but that would be better than dirtying the living room,” Elara said.

 

She was sitting in her chair sipping tea with a notebook on her lap. Blaise wasn’t expecting her to be home, considering he hadn’t seen her since June two years prior. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Making decisions,” she answered. “I’ve met two different men, both of whom have proposed, and I’m trying to decide which to marry. Where have you been that’s got you in a frenzy? And don’t bother saying it’s none of my business; I am your mother even if I’ve never truly acted like one. I just need to know ahead of time what assets to protect.”

 

“At least you’ve admitted your faults as a mother,” he mumbled. Elara glared at him. “I was summoned by the Dark Lord. Something about a prophecy I’m involved with along with seven others.”

 

Blaise closed his eyes as he slumped into the chair next to his mother, missing the intrigued look on her face. “What was it all about?”

 

“Something about ambivalence that could make or break him,” he mumbled. “I wasn’t paying attention because most of his focus was on the stupid mudblood Granger. She’s the center of his attention. I think Theodore is also in his eyesight. I left when things got messy.”

 

“Messy how?”

 

“Lyle Greengrass showed up and tried to murder his eldest daughter. His son-in-law ended the fight quickly.”

 

Blaise heard his mother huff. “Since when was she married?”

 

“Last June,” Blaise answered. “I married her and Theodore with the power of the Selwyn seat.”

 

“Why would you do that?”

 

“They were desperate. It was a small favor.”

 

His mother chuckled, causing Blaise to look at his mother. “That was no mere small favor. If Lyle was truly trying to murder his spawn, then they got a full bonding. My darling figlio, you have a power over them.”

 

“I’m not following.”

 

“The two must be madly, deeply in love if you bonded them together.”

 

“They were. The war was just starting with full forced attacks and Daphne had just learned her father was signing a marriage contract with the Goyles.” Blaise summoned a glass of whiskey. “Honestly mother, none of this matters. I think I’m just going to take off to the mainland.”

 

“You can’t run from this,” she snapped. At Blaise’s startled look she calmed down. “If you hold a key spot in either securing or destroying the power of Lord Voldemort, then you must play the game, because in the end all this is is a game. You just need to know how to play. You have power over the Dark Lord because with one choice you could destroy everything, and you have power over Theodore and Daphne because you married them. They owe you.”

 

“But they’re my friends,” Blaise said warily. “And you ran when this began.”

 

“People like us don’t have friends, Blaise. People of greatness and power have people we can control. We gain that with small favors and debts. I ran because I could not protect myself. I knew you could protect yourself, but I knew you couldn’t care for the both of us. I only did what I thought was the most beneficial.”

 

Blaise nodded. It made sense. He wanted to run. He was good at that. But he could see what his mother was describing. “What do I do? I can’t run now. I have a job. I have people. What do I do?” And how does this make me hold power over you, he thought.

 

Elara grinned at her son and sipped her tea. Blaise didn’t recognize the grin of a veteran of the game.

 

* * *

The first thing Hermione saw when she woke up were delicate silver swirls on a cream ceiling. Next came the sound of mumbles. Wincing as she turned her head, she saw Neville sitting next to her. His face was in his palms. “Nev?” Hermione croaked. Her mouth was dry and throat sore. 

 

Neville slowly lifted his head out of his hands. “Hermione?” Neville practically launched himself onto Hermione, hugging her tightly. “Merlin, I didn’t know when you’d wake up. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

 

“Where’re we,” she mumbled. Hermione couldn’t remember ever being in a room like this, even with its warm, familiar feeling.

 

“Tom’s house,” he answered. She has been there before. “I found you on the floor of the Burrow and apparated back to my house. I happen to live next to the Greengrass family and Malfoy and Marcus Flint were there getting Astoria and saw me with you. They convinced me it was best to take you here, and I think it was the better choice.”

 

“They’ve gotta understand, Nev. I need to explain…” Hermione pleaded. 

 

Neville shook his head. “There’s no going back now.”

 

“What about you? This wasn’t your mess.”

 

“Your my best friend. You’re like a sister to me,” Neville smiled weakly. “You’ve always had faith in me and those people didn’t until I cut a snake’s head off and protected a few children. I’m on your side. Not theirs and not Tom’s.”

 

“Since when do you call him Tom?”

 

“Since he asked me to.”

 

Hermione tried to smile but she couldn’t. This boy she had known for years, who was as loyal to the cause they come, had followed her. He went straight into a territory of snakes because he believed it to be safer. “You need to go back while you still can, Neville. I can take care of myself.”

 

Neville chuckled. “I’ve never had doubt that you couldn’t take care of yourself. It’s too late for me anyway. I was able to sneak back into my house only have to have Gran tell me to pack my things and leave. She said she wouldn’t turn me in but she could no longer house me.”

 

"Was she upset?”

 

He shrugged. “Hard telling with the old bird. I think part of her was fine with it. She’s just as tired of the fighting as I am, probably more. Both wars have caused her family to be torn apart. I think she just wanted me safe.”

 

Hermione was quiet for a moment. She thought about how Harry would react if he were awake. “What if we just run?” She asked. 

 

Neville gave her a crazy look. “Did I just hear Hermione Granger suggest that we run? Are you ill? I’ve never seen you give up in any tough situation. You can’t now.”

 

“But I don’t know what to do,” She weeped. 

 

“Do you trust yourself?” She shrugged. “Because that’s all you need to do. Trust yourself and you’ll know where to play your cards, Hermione. You’re secretly good at games like this.”

 

* * *

Daphne loved Theo’s hair. It was soft and long enough for her to run her fingers through it without him looking shaggy. “Sometimes I feel like a dog,” he mumbled against her chest. He had his arms wrapped around her, his hands on her stomach.

 

Daphne giggled. “Why do you feel like a dog? I let you on furniture. You’re not on a leash.”

 

“You’re petting me.”

 

“That’s because I like the feel of your hair. It’s relaxing. It feels like home.”

 

Theo moved his head a little to look at her in the eyes. A small smile graced his face. “Any place with you is home.”

 

Daphne rolled her eyes. “You can be so corny.” Silence washed over them. Their heartbeats synchronized along with their breathing.

 

“Theo,” Daphne said quietly, “What are we going to do?”

 

“We can’t run,” Theo admitted. “My father has us guaranteed protection from this side at least. And you might be thinking Tom will just betray it once my father is gone but their...partnership, for a lack of words, is a strong intertwined one.”

 

“We can’t leave. I refuse to join this side though.”

 

“I already said we wouldn’t join this side or the Order. I declared our neutrality from those two sides,” Theo snuggled closer. “I could try to get you out of here.”

 

“I’m not leaving you,” Daphne said firmly.

 

“You could’ve died today. I can’t risk your life. You are my agápi.”

 

Daphne lifted Theo’s chin. “If you aren’t coming with me, then I’m not going. You told me that we will survive this. I’m not letting you lose hope. We may not be able to run together, but we can stand face together. I’d rather be together in hell than apart in heaven.”

 

Theo kissed her on the cheek. “What would I do without you?”

 

Daphne chuckled and kissed him gently on the lips. “Wander lonely in this world. Now you have me to wander this world with.”

 

Theo grinned. “Ti yw fy mhopeth; chi yw fy mywyd, fy ngoleuni, fy nghariad.”

 

“Welsh instead of Greek,” Daphne mused. “I forget you’re just as Welsh as you are Greek.”

 

“How could you forget? We have a house in Wales,” Theo kissed Daphne’s stomach once more. “I promise this’ll be all over by the time our baby is here.”

 

“Don’t promise such a thing, Theo.”

 

“But I am. I refuse to let our child grow up in this world.”

 

“But you said we are neutral.”

 

“Neutral from the Order and from Tom’s side. We will join either side. This will be over before the baby takes its first breath,” Theo reaffirmed. Somehow, Daphne didn’t doubt him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the use of Google tanslate:  
> agápi (Greek): love  
> Ti yw fy mhopeth; chi yw fy mywyd, fy ngoleuni, fy nghariad (Welsh): You are my everything; you are my life, my light, my love


	14. Carpe Diem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus drinks. Pansy showers and brushes her hair. Adrian works. Blaise explores. Daphne talks with her father-in-law.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter  
> Chapter Warning: None  
> Chapter Lyric: "Carpe diem, a battle cry/Aren't we all too young to die?/Ask a reason and no reply/Aren't we all too young to die?/Making a living/Making a killing/What's worth forgiving/Alright

Marcus inhaled the scent of whisky, musk, and celery. The smells of Fadhbanna were almost as soothing as those related to Quidditch. Marcus practically skipped to his stool in excitement to be back. “The usual, Marcus?” The bartender, Horacio, asked. Marcus nodded. “I was getting worried after you didn’t show up Tuesday.”

  
  


“The wards are too weak around my house,” Marcus grunted. “It seemed too dangerous to come out. I finally said screw it.”

  
  


Horacio sat the glass of brandy down in front of him. “You must really need this then.”

  
  


Marcus chuckled and nodded. The man next to Marcus spoke, “Ever heard of Benny Williams?”

  
  


Marcus glanced at the man. He didn’t recognize the mangy man. “ ‘Course I have.”

  
  


“He loves Brandy, especially ones who are redheads from Ireland.”

  
  


Marcus drank the rest of the glass. “What’s with the disguise?”

  
  


“The stadium was broken into a couple hours after we left. Half the team is dead. Julius and Brutus were the ones who broke in.”

  
  


Marcus dropped his glass. “Horacio, is the room open?”

  
  


Horacio tossed Marcus a key. “How was he let in?” Horacio nodded to the man next to Marcus. 

  
  


“To reach me, I assume.”

  
  


Horacio looked at the man in the face. “You cannot be here anymore after today unless you change.”

  
  


Marcus led the man back to the warded room. “What was that all about?”

 

“Fadhbanna is Irish for problems. This bar is for those with problems who want to be neutral. Your disguise must be from a neutral because I know if you looked normal you wouldn’t have gotten in, Oliver.”

 

“I’ve been here every day since Tuesday waiting for you,” Marcus saw Oliver’s appearance began to bubble into his normal one. “I just wondered if—“

 

“No I haven’t seen Julius and Brutus,” Marcus snapped. “And I refuse to help you, Wood.”

 

“But why?” Oliver whined. “You don’t have to commit to the side.”

 

“I’m not doing it,” Marcus said one last time. His voice was low, making Oliver take a step back. “I refuse to join the Order as I do the Death Eaters. I am just a neutral with problems.”

 

“Will you at least think about it?” He asked. “You’ve always hated Julius and Brutus, and now they’ve killed our second family.”

 

Marcus sighed. He really did want to help. Puddlemere United didn’t judge him when he came on board as a part of the reserves. It was Benny Williams who had first brought him to Fadhbanna and started his love for brandy. Benny was the only one who didn’t judge him when he first joined the team. Benny took him under his wing. “What if…” Oliver paused, as if fighting a battle with himself. “What if I could give you information?”

 

“On what?”

 

“The Order has put a bounty on Hermione and Neville. It’s a hefty sum and recognition. I know you know where they are.”

 

Marcus stared at the man in disbelief. Sitting in front him, Oliver Wood has the power to take him and everything down. “I’m not going to call them,” Oliver said. He must’ve understood how Marcus was thinking. “And I’ll give you more information if you just consider helping me.”

 

After silence and contemplation, Marcus replied, “I’ll think about. How will I let you know my choice?”

 

“Come here at your normal time two Tuesdays from now,” Oliver ordered. 

 

“Horacio said you weren’t welcome here.”

 

Oliver grinned. “You act like I can’t fool a man, or a building. I’m wizard, Flint, not a muggle.”   
  


* * *

Pansy sat on the floor of the shower, letting the droplets of burning water hit her skin. Steam filled the room. Pansy knew that if she didn’t get out soon her skin would start to blister. She turned the water off. Grabbing the closest towel and wrapping it around her body, she walked out into her cold room. Goosebumps appeared on her skin.

 

Trying not to lose the towel, she sat down at her vanity and brushed her hair. “I was starting to wonder if you were trying to drown yourself in there.”

 

Pansy sighed. “What do you want, mother?”

 

Posy gently sat down on Pansy’s bed. “I was just curious to where you disappeared to yesterday. Your father and I were talking and we’ve found a respectful pure blood family in Denmark with a boy three years older than you. He looks like a gnome, but I’m sure your looks will balance out. The family has agreed to this marriage. We shall leave in two days time for Denmark. Your father has most of the arrangements made. There is nothing left for us here.”

 

It was that moment Pansy missed her brother. Her mother always had focused on Basil, not her. Basil would’ve convinced his mother this was foolish, even if he’d agree she should marry a gnome. What hit her the most was her mother saying nothing was left for them here in England. Basil was here, his body at least. Her mother would’ve never arranged a marriage if Basil were alive. 

 

Pansy sat her brush down and looked at the reflection of her mother in the mirror. Pansy looked like her mother; however, Posy’s nose was closer to her face, her skin was paler than a Malfoy, her eyes were dark and squinted, constantly looking everywhere, and her hair was in long braid. Pansy couldn’t think of time when Posy did not have her hair in a braid. Her father always told her he never liked flowers until he met her mother, and that no bouquet ever matched the beauty of his Posy. 

 

“No,” she whispered. 

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I said no, mother,” Pansy repeated, a little louder this time. “I will not marry some gnome in Denmark.”

 

“I didn’t say he was a gnome. I said he looked like one,” Posy corrected. 

 

“It doesn’t matter. I refuse to take part in this arranged marriage. I don’t care if you say it is a part of my womanly duties as a pure blood.”

 

Posy scoffed and stood. “Enough of your foolishness, child. There is no argument for it.”

 

“What if I keep on refusing?”

 

“Then leave. No one else will ever want you; I hope you know that. This was your one chance to be better.”

 

Pansy faces her mother. “I will prove to you that I am more than just a pretty face.”

 

“You have to be pretty first.”

 

Pansy took a deep breath. “Someday you will cower at what I can accomplish and the men I will attract. It will happen.”   
  


* * *

Adrian slowly cracked open the door to Terence’s room. “Adrian?” He heard Terence call. 

 

He sighed and stepped into the room. Trying to avoid minimal interaction, Adrian quickly grabbed the scroll at the end of Terence’s bed. “How are you feeling today, Mr. Higgs?”

 

“Fine, but Adrian—“

 

Adrian quickly cut him off. “Excellent. Your recovery seems to be going very well. I’d still give you another week before release discussion begins.”

 

“Adrian, just shut up and listen!” Terence snapped. 

 

Adrian did because Terence never raised his voice. “What’s happened? Ever since I came in here no one will tell me about the outside, and even though I know you don’t give a shit about me, I need someone to be honest with me. From what I’ve learned, you’re nothing but honest because that’s the only action that requires very little emotion.”

 

Adrian could the muscles in his cheek aching to twitch, though he kept them firm. “Harry Potter is in a coma. He who mustn’t be named has called a ceasefire and doesn’t have any plans at the moment. The Order is on a manhunt.”

 

Adrian could feel his mouth turn down at the sight of Terence’s fallen face. “Harry’s in a coma. You know who has called for temporary peace and has no plan to end it. Who’s the Order hunting down?”

 

“Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom.”

 

“What? Those are the last two people I’d expect. They’re very loyal to the cause. What’d they do?”

 

Adrian shrugged. He knew, of course, why the Order was looking for them, but it was released in  _ The Daily Prophet  _ the past evening of bounty for them. No crime was listed—just a price and for them to be alive. 

 

“So what are you going to do?” Terence asked him. 

 

“Keep an eye on your abdominal area to make sure no intestines fall out. Then I’m going to check on a different patient who was thrown into a brick wall by an expulso and missing a chunk of their head for said reason,” Adrian answered. 

 

Terence rolled his eyes. “I meant your position for the whole war.”

 

“Neutral.”

 

“Even now?”

 

“I will not be loyal to the Death Eaters or to the Order.”

 

“But—“

 

“Get some rest, Mr. Higgs,” Adrian sighed. “A mediwitch will check on you soon.” 

 

Adrian couldn’t deal with all of Terence’s questions. He could hear Terence calling for him but kept walking faster. Adrian would rather be in the on call room trying to sleep than deal with Terence. He stopped outside of his next patient’s door. His chest was heavy and warm. Adrian brushed off the feeling and walked in. He wasn’t going to start now with emotions.    
  


* * *

Blaise glanced down at the scrap of paper his mother gave him. He looked up at the shop in front of him. He had no idea why his mother recommended that he come to this dingy shop in Knockturn Alley. No one paid mind to him as he slowly entered the shop. 

 

The shop was bare for the most part. A wooden table with two chairs were the only things in there. “Hello? Is anyone here?”

 

Blaise quietly shut the door behind him. He walked toward the table in the middle of the room. There was no other door besides the one he entered through. “Hello?” He called again. 

 

Only his echo answered him. He watched the people slink by the shop, ignoring the shop as if it wasn’t there. He knocked on the window but no one turned around. It wasn’t uncommon though for people to ignore each other in Knockturn Alley.

 

Blaise turned back to the wooden table and two chairs. They were made out of reed, just like his wand. He stuck his hand into his pocket and grasped his wand. It grew warmer as he walked closer to the table. 

 

He sat down and set his wand on the table. No one came to sit in the chair across from him. A slight breeze drifted through the room and opened the door. Blaise grabbed his wand and walked out. 

 

He knew what to do now.    
  


* * *

“Come in,” Daphne called to who was knocking at her room door. Theo was wandering around with Draco, Pansy was at home, Adrian went to St. Mungo’s to work his shift, and Marcus went out to supervise Astoria shopping. She heard from her sister that Granger and Longbottom were staying here too, but she had yet to see them. 

 

Leopold Nott slowly pushed the door open. “I’m glad you came, Mr. Nott,” Daphne smiled. 

 

Leopold sat in the chair next to her bed. “Leopold, Daphne. We are family. Mr. Nott is reserved for those I hate and I want respect and authority from and over. I see my son won’t let you out of bed.”

 

“How do you know my healer didn’t order me to stay put?”

 

Leopold chuckled. “I was the same way with Calla when she was carrying Theodore. We found out when she was six weeks along. I made her stay in bed for almost a week before our elf told me I was an idiot and she wasn’t  _ that _ fragile. She didn’t speak to me for three days.”

 

“Theo talks so fondly of her,” Daphne commented. “I wish I could’ve met her.”

 

“She would’ve loved you, Daphne,” Leopold grinned. “Now why have you called me here? I don’t think it was just for pleasant conversation. That just doesn’t seem to be your style.”

 

“And why do you say that? Mother always said to have pleasant conversations with those you call family.”

 

Daphne could tell, just like his son, Leopold could see right through her. “I know many women who you will bloom into.”

 

“Tom mentioned that you are convinced you’ll be gone by the end of the weekend,” Daphne said. 

 

“Tom?” Leopold asked, intrigued by the use of the name. 

 

“He has asked us all to call him that.”

 

“And who do you by ‘us all’?”

 

“If you’re going to be like this, then we’ll just play a little game,” Daphne waited until Leopold nodded in agreeance. “I answered you question about Tom. You answer mine: why are you convinced that you will be gone by the end of the weekend?”

 

Leopold was impressed with his daughter-in-law. “I’m an old wizard.”

 

“You’re only in your seventies. Many wizards live beyond that.”

 

He couldn’t fool her. “My health has worsened. I’ve become susceptible to anything,” he answered. “And as much as I love my son and want to live to be a grandfather, I miss my cariad. The healers have concluded that I suffer mainly from...I believe muggles call it a broken heart, and the only reason it has yet to kill me is because Theodore needed me more.”

 

“Now that he is older and even has the roots of his own family, you would feel more at peace with yourself leaving him behind,” Daphne concluded. 

 

“Smart girl. Now, answer my question.”

 

“Myself, Theo, my sister, Draco, Marcus, Pansy, Adrian, Blaise, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom. He arrived with Hermione when she came back in an unfavorable state,” she explained. 

 

“I’ve heard whispers of a bounty out for them. Has your father heard of your condition?”

 

Daphne nodded and sat up more. “He made a visit yesterday. Theo handled it.” She didn’t care to elaborate any more. Leopold didn’t need her to.

 

“Why did you sell out our secrets for protection?”

 

Leopold contemplated his answer carefully. “Tom can be unpredictable. He appears and makes himself trustworthy, and he can be a good friend, but if the circumstances arise in his favor, he will toss everyone into harm's way. I have a long history with him and have saved his life many times. I’m his last confidant from the origins since Dolohov died last week. I needed to keep you and Theo and my grandchild safe. I know what Theo is capable of, and I’m sure you aren’t far behind. 

 

“If Theo took care of your father how I’m imagining, then Tom knows he has power. I also know that even with child, he would toss you to the side or use you as blackmail if necessary.”

 

“You are one he would do anything for,” she concluded once more. “I would say the only one but I’m sure he would do lots for Hermione Granger.”

 

Leopold shrugged. “I remember the day we found her. He was ready to kill her, but he just stared at her in her crib and made arrangements. If her aunt and uncle weren’t alive, then I was to take her and raise her as Theo’s twin sister.”

 

Leopold coughed. He wiped his mouth after, smearing blood across his face. Daphne stared at the streak until Leopold wiped it away with his handkerchief. He was dying. Leopold slowly stood. 

 

“I think it is time I return home. It has been a pleasure, Daphne. Please look after my son.”

 

Daphne smiled at her father-in-law. “I will look after him for the rest of our days and protect him when he is down and push him forward. It has been an honor to talk with you, Leopold.”

 

Leopold staggered out of the bedroom. Fortunately, his son made a good choice. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Tom was screwed if he ever angered the woman lying in the room he just left. She may have had the weak, proper exterior of a pureblood woman, but Leopold could see the warrior underneath with a snake slithering around her feet. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the use of Google translate:  
> fadhbanna (Irish)- problems  
> cariad (Welsh)- love


	15. Renegades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione talk. Theo pokes fun at Draco. Theo and Hermione come to an understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter  
> Chapter Warning: Like three cuss words  
> Chapter Lyric: "Long live the pioneers/Rebels and mutineers/Go forth and have no fear/Come close the end is near/It's our time to make a move/It's our time to make amends/It's our time to break the rules/Let's begin"

Draco wanted to be alone, but he saw no other option when he found Hermione Granger sitting in a chair in the library reading. He sighed heavily. “I thought this place would be empty. I was hoping to be alone.”

 

Hermione glanced up at him before looking back at her book. “This house is large enough; I’m sure you can find another unoccupied space, or we could share this one in silence.”

 

Draco slid into the chair next to her. “I’m surprised Tom and Longbottom let you out of your room after the condition you came here in yesterday,” Draco commented.

 

Hermione glared at him. “Silence I said. Alone you said. Alone means silence and no one around. In this room at this moment, silence is all you’ll get.”

 

Draco chuckled. “That’s why Ravenclaw was never an option for you.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“I want to be alone. To you, being alone means letting the quiet envelop you and having no one around. Alone can mean many things to different people.”

 

“What does it mean to you?” She asked. “It has to mean something to you if you state that alone can mean many things to different people. Clearly we have different meanings for alone.”

 

Draco sighed. “Just because I want to be alone doesn’t mean I  _ want _ to be alone. I just want someone to make the choice of me.”

 

“What is wrong with you?” She snapped.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“When you aren’t negative, you only see one option in life,” she answered. “Everything you do requires a choice. You have to make a choice with every breath you take. Somehow you are too stupid to see that.”

 

“And that’s what has led you here, Granger?” He questioned. “You knew visiting this place would be seen as a betrayal to the Order and yet you came. You knew that there was a chance of Weaselbee flipping a lid and turning against you. You knew that having Longbottom as your confidant would put him at risk too. You knew from that moment at Hogwarts that Voldemort was the man who practically raised you. You didn’t have to come to know that. You didn’t have to lose place with the Order. You didn’t need to put your life, or Longbottom’s, in danger.”

 

“But I chose to anyway.”

 

“Why?”

 

She slammed her book shut. Draco flinched at the sound. It reminded him of staying with his grandfather Abraxas. Cygnus treasured the boy, mainly because he was Narcissa’s son and Cygnus adored his youngest daughter more than life itself. Abraxas was a harsh man and had little tolerance for childish actions. Draco understood why his father tried to be so kind and considerate to him without being transparent about it after the first summer with Abraxas.

 

“That’s why,” She stood up and started towards the door. “You can be alone now.”

 

As she closed door, Draco sighed. Hermione Granger had just built another wall around him.

 

* * *

Theo ran into Draco stalking down a hallway near the kitchen, grumbling to himself. “What’s wrong with you?” Theo asked him.

 

“Fucking Granger,” Draco mumbled.

 

“You’re screwing Granger?” Theo wiggled his eyebrows. He knew it was false.

 

Draco tried to punch him but Theo caught his fist. “Since when did you become a stone cold badass?”

 

Theo smirked. “I will have you know that I am flesh, not stone, and warm, not cold. As for the badass part, I have always been one.”

 

Draco scoffed. “No need to be a smartass too. I don’t know how you have everyone respecting you. You do nothing.”

 

“I love and am considerate to those who need. I don’t nag too. I do what I can and help when needed. Daphne thinks it’s manly.”

 

“You’re so whipped,” Draco chuckled. Theo nodded in agreement. “I was looking for some place to be alone and I wandered into the library—“

 

“Which library?”

 

Draco looked at him quizzically. “What do you mean which library? There’s one library and it’s on the first floor.”

 

Theo rolled his eyes. “No wonder then. Carry on with your story.”

 

“Anyway, she was there but I saw no other choice but to sit there with her. She got mad at me when I asked her a question. We got into an argument about being alone and it’s meaning. She left me there to ponder.”

 

It made sense then. Draco didn’t like it when people questioned his one choice only method or his perception of views.

 

“I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm by it, Draco,” Theo said. Draco sighed.

 

“She’s just so...odd. She did these things knowing what could happen, and then she slams the book and says that’s why.”

 

Draco punched the wall in frustration. Theo grabbed his shoulders. “Calm down, buddy. It’s going to be okay. We’re all adjusting to this, and we’re all adjusting to this differently. I’m sure she was just like you and wanted to be alone.”

 

Theo let go of Draco when his breathing returned to normal. “We have to stick together. Remember when we were little and you, me, Marcus, Blaise, Greg, and Vince used to play aurors and criminals around your house while our mothers had tea?  We had to stick together to outsmart our opponents and evade our mothers’ wrath when we injured each other or broke something.”

 

“This isn’t a game we’re playing,” Draco snapped. “This is reality.”

 

“And there goes your one mindedness,” Theo said. “You don’t see what this is. Just think about what I’m saying, Draco.”

 

“I don’t want to be a part of this, Theo,” Draco groaned. “I want freedom.”

 

“Tell you what, if you think about what I’ve said, and think with multiple views, I’ll talk to Granger and maybe get her to apologize to you. Deal?”

 

“You’re insane.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You have a plan, don’t you?”

 

“What makes you say that?” Theo asked with a smirk.

 

Draco didn’t say a word. He just thought until he gave up trying to understand his friend. “Just go do your magic.”

 

Theo grinned. “Alright then.  _ Levicorpus _ .”

 

Draco began to rise towards the ceiling. With a swift flick, he was dangling by his ankles. “What in Merlin’s pants was that for?”

 

“You were being whiny.” Theo turned around and headed towards the stairs.

 

“Oi, I’m still dangling and you’re leaving!” He heard Draco shout. “That’s not how the spell works!”

 

“Modified version,” Theo hollered back. “Someone will be around to let you down. Until then, just hang around and think about what I’ve said and your actions.”

 

* * *

When Hermione heard the door opened, she immediately groaned. It was probably Tom or Neville checking on her or Malfoy coming to annoy her. She shook her head. Malfoy wouldn’t wander into this library. She was surprised when she looked up and saw Theodore Nott standing there.

 

“May I help you?”

 

“I came to check on you,” He replied. She watched his eyes dart around the room until landing back on her.

 

“Nice excuse.”

 

“I’m serious. I ran into Draco down stairs; he was being a whiny prat complaining about you. I figured that yes you may have been rude to him—“

 

“Excuse you!”

 

“—But he must’ve done something to provoke you because he’s Draco. So I came to check on you. And before you ask, it was just a couple of minutes ago I finished talking with him. I knew you’d be here. I haven’t been wandering around aimlessly looking for you. I have better things to do with my time.”

 

“I’m surprised you knew about this library,” she then mumbled, “Considering it’s in the attic and its contents.”

 

“I’m pureblood not an intolerant, ignorant racist.”

 

“I never said you were one.”

 

Theo shifted to lean against the bookshelf to his left. “It was underlying. You don’t trust most purebloods, especially those from Slytherin. Think of all the classes we’ve had together since our first year. When have I done something to make you believe I’m an intolerant, ignorant racist?”

 

Hermione thought for a moment. “Sixth year. You laughed at me with Malfoy in potions.”

 

Hermione saw Theo’s eyes shifted to the ceiling in thought. “Ah yes. I remember that day. First day of potions. Draco made a joke about Slughorn being an idiot for not realizing you were a muggle-born,” Hermione opened her mouth to retort but Theo stopped her. “Come off the pedestal, Granger. Your hair is as big as cauldron from first year. Any person raised around magic was well aware of Sleekeazy’s. We weren’t making fun of you but Slughorn instead.”

 

Hermione glared at him. “I used it once fourth year. It worked perfectly fine, but it was just too much work to use constantly; I was also perfectly fine with my bushy hair. It doesn’t matter. I’m doing fine, Nott.”

 

He blinked. Hermione shifted under his gaze. “I wanted to say thank you for yesterday once more.”

 

“I didn’t do anything.”

 

“But you were ready to,” Theo pointed out. “Lyle could’ve done a lot worse.”

 

“You seemed to have it all under control. When did he stop groaning?”

 

“Marcus said it was when he exited the floo,” Theo said. He glanced over at an old, tattered book and picked it up. “Ever read this?”

 

Hermione looked at the book. It was  _ The Art of War _ . “No.”

 

“Maybe you should.”

 

Hermione studied him. “What’s your angle, Nott?” She asked. “We may have never associated with each other but I’ve heard things about you.”

 

“Rumors are different from facts. You need to know the difference.”

 

“You evaded my question.”

 

Theo smirked. “Did you know that if your aunt and uncle had been dead you and I would be twins?”

 

Hermione stared at him. She couldn’t believe what she heard. “You’re older than me by four days. Tom told my father that night you would be passed off as my twin sister if you had no surviving family.”

 

“Why tell me this?”

 

“Because you may not have been passed off as my sister but now that I examine the possibility we would’ve done well.”

 

“Because we are alike,” Hermione concluded with a nod. “You still haven’t answered me, Nott. I haven’t forgotten.”

 

Theo smiled. At least Hermione thought it was a very small and faint smile. She couldn’t ever remember seeing Theo without a smirk or frown or straight face. The slight smile made her uneasy. “Hermione, who are you loyal to?”

 

Hermione frowned. She stayed silent. Theo took her silence as an answer. “That means you aren’t loyal, or as loyal as you once were, to the Order. On the contrary though, as much as you, more or less, trust Tom, you would never join his cause. That we both know.”

 

“Your point?”

 

“You don’t know which side to lean to. Daphne and I going to stay neutral from the two sides. Draco wants freedom. I’ve yet to talk to the others. Considering my prior knowledge of our ragtag group, I’d say they want the same thing.”

 

“Your point, Theo?” Hermione snapped. She was tired of his little games.

 

“When you come to a fork in the road, do you go on the path to the right or left?” He questioned. “Or do you go straight between the two? Or do you go back the start? Or to the left of the left or right of the right? Or do you stand there waiting for help?”

 

Hermione contemplated what he said. She reached out and grabbed the beaten book in his hands. “‘The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting’,” Theo whispered as she grabbed the book.

 

“‘In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity’.”

 

Theo’s left eyebrow arched. Hermione could almost detect the small smile trying to reappear under his cold exterior. “I thought you’d never read this?”

 

Hermione smirked. “I’ve read  _ The Art of War _ but I’ve never read  _ this _ ,” Theo chuckled at her answer. He couldn’t say she answered incorrectly for she had answered what he asked, literally. “I’ve read every book in this library. Tom made it into a library when I was 8. Rooms here have changed and grown. A use of magic. Except for this room and the one I’m staying in, this house isn’t what I grew up in. This house is a sign that the Thomas I knew is gone. I swore when I last saw him as Thomas he had sold the house. Apparently not.”

 

“Apparently not,” Theo agreed.

 

“I’ll do what you asked,” Hermione conceded. “But I want full knowledge of all your plans.”

 

Theo grinned. Hermione blinked and squinted her eyes to make sure it was an actual grin she was seeing not a smirk. It was. “You have a deal, Hermione. We can do this. We’ll help create a better future.”

 

Hermione nodded. “Talk to the others, even Neville and Astoria. I’m sure we can come up with something.”


End file.
